Harry Potter and the Purple Bullseye
by goddessofspite
Summary: It is well known that Muggles would never stand a chance in a fight against a fully trained adult Wizard. Right? Unless, of course, they used MUGGLE ways of fighting back... like, say, oh... snapping a certain Dark Lord's wand in half? Can you say "oops"
1. And The Lord Said Aw fuck it!

**Harry Potter and the Purple Bullseye**

by Goddess of Spite

Standard Disclaimers Apply. All familiar intellectual property is copyrighted by J.K. Rowlign and Warner Brother's Entertainment. All except for the five muggles. They're real people... no, really. I actually know people like them. Unfortunately.

Author's Note: I would like to thank my lovely lovely Beta who put SOOOOO much of her own brains and contributions into making this and every chapter perfect. READ her fic, too!It's called 'Harry Potter and The New Neighbour', and I'm in it...Can you guess who I am?

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**Chapter 1. And the Lord Said, "Aw…fuck it**."

There comes a point, in a person's life, when he or she thinks to themselves that the situation they are in is _so bizarre_ that God, no matter how mysterious the preachers claim His ways are, had to have made some kind of _huge_ mistake.

This little anecdote is about one of those times.

And, yes, it is an aneccdote, not a full-blown story, simply because it starts at no special time in general. Not at the beginning, at the characters' births. Not at the end, with some crucial character dying but, rather, it starts with a wrong turn. Somewhere in that huge cosmic machine that tells everything what 'to do'.... something 'didn't'.

Like most mistakes, it starts without a warning, a 'Hello', or 'Excuse me', or 'If you please'. The five main characters were not born with cursed legacies, are not members of any royal family, don't have interesting shaped scars ANYWHERE on their members and have no deadly allergies to red apples or spindle needles.

Rather, their heroic qualities stem from something a lot deeper and a lot less mysterious: a whole lot of nerve and the belief that they're immortal.

Which should clue you into the fact that they're teenagers, of course.

Our anecdote is about five young ladies with a friendship so strong it shaped _and_ saved them. So first we must describe these young ladies, and the fact that they were walking arm in arm on that fateful night, makes our job all the easier…well, all except for Donia. She was getting a piggyback ride on Sarah.

But, we'll start with Stephanie.

Furthest on the left and the eldest of their number, eighteen-year-old Stephanie Lalonde was popular, charming, intelligent and gorgeous. With scarlet hair, coiling to her shoulders in tight, erotic curls, flawless alabaster skin, bloody lips and eyes so vivid blue they reminded her various ex-boyfriends of Bunsen flames, she could have been the star of a seductive vampire movie, without additional make-up. Underneath the heavy, dark blue school coat she wore was a white shirt that was never buttoned high enough to hide her lacey, black bra and a schoolgirl's kilt that was so short it could've passed for a belt. If one looked straight into her face, one would get the distinct impression that she knew _exactly_ what made the men of this world fall to their knees and wasn't afraid to use it. Yet, if anyone were to mistake this siren for a sex-driven bimbo, the prefect badge that hung on her _breast_ pocket would have corrected that notion straight away. Stephanie was no slutty bimbo; she was a vixen, a cunning animal in human form.

The subject of animals would turn our little inspection to the girl walking on Stephanie's right, Katherine Gale Dubois. She was armed against the frigid, early-winter night with the same heavy dark blue coat which had always been a staple in the wardrobe of English schools, but beneath it was a longer kilt, to just above knee length and a shirt with rolled up leaves, done up to the neck with a properly tied tie. Yet, this image would not be complete without mentioning the various badges pined to her tie. One badge courageously stated, "Animal Rights Activist." Another said, "Greenpeace Rulz" while a third, that Donia had picked out for her, read, "Save the planet. Kill yourself." Hanging from her neck was a homemade hemp necklace with a silver dolphin hanging from it and a little pin, shaped like a 'Peace' sign clung lovingly to her collar.

If there were one word to describe Katherine's physical appearance, though, it would be 'cute'. She was petite, nowhere as tall as super-model Stephanie, but with the figure of a ballerina. Shoulder length gold hair as straight as her character, but with a fun curl at the ends and huge, strangely open-hearted eyes that still managed to retain a smudge of enigma, mysterious without trying to be; they were honey-gold in the sunlight and a dark-pool green-gray on cloudier days.

Heart-shaped, dusty-rose mouth in a heart-shaped, sweet face, Katherine was enthusiastic and striving and optimistic, a regular firecracker, someone who had the strength of spirit to change the world and heal it… if she didn't lose her temper with the entire damned situation and blow it up, first!

Next in line was Jessica. Ah, Jessica Frey; a scholar to the bone. A relisher of Greek and Roman mythology and its dramatics, seventeen year old Jessica Marie Frey was a romantic through and through, with amazing brains for literature and history and a vast sympathy for the twisting labyrinth of human emotion. Jess was a poet, a writer, her skull filled with beautiful images and words and feelings and ideals and…and…_and… _not much reality. Jessica was a believer in heroes, right and wrong, bravery and good and justice. She was the most moral of her friends, yet also the most sympathetic to their regular _lack_ of morality. She believed that inwardly, everyone was innocent and that people just fell from grace due to inborn weakness…some more than others, she was currently thinking, looking to her right.

Her angsty vulnerability came through in her appearance and gave her a graceful attraction that is usually attributed to weeping willows. She had expressive, innocent, MASSIVE, pearlescent blue eyes, so different from Stephanie's burning sapphires but still so beautiful, the way they seemed constantly on the verge of tears. Her hair was possessed a naughty-angel flip at the chin, like Josie and the Pussycats, especially since it was the same shade of orange. Freckles dotted her pretty, round face and a small smiling doll's mouth finished off the effect brilliantly. What with her tiny, compact package of five foot two and her general quiet delicacy, Jessica seemed ready to play a perfect Juliet to someone's Romeo.

To her right, came the burdened Sarah Ogle. The tallest of all five and the second eldest, Sarah was eighteen and currently enjoying her second childhood. As a tall, blond amazon with silver-blue eyes and creamy skin, Sarah might have done well trying to be average.

Yet, much to the chagrin of her prim and proper parents, Sarah had not grown into the type that 'average' and 'normal' appealed to. She was eccentric, to say the least, prone to sarcasm, pranks and tricks, horror movies that were so bad they mocked their audiences and bouts of chaotic craziness where she just _needed_ to be shit-disturber for no apparent reason. She reveled in being annoying and was an expert at lightening dark moods. She was popular and unpopular, at the same time, at school, being great for a laugh if you weren't the center of her merciless attentions.

At first, Sarah gave off the impression that absolutely nothing but a childish desire for fun and lack of responsibility ran through her mind, but her friends knew better. She was capable of a quiet sensitivity and nurturing that astounded them when it surgbfaced. So, they kept her around, knowing the truth about her. She was an elemental lover of fun, not an idiot.

In fact, the person she was currently carrying had the notion that maybe Sarah was the one who had it right, out of all of them.

The youngest of them all and yet the most 'experienced', in many ways was Donia Sawwan. Donia wasn't originally English, in case you couldn't tell by the name. Her parents were…Eastern, she refused to say from where. She had a dark olive complexion, in contrast to her friends', and thick black hair that fell in malicious waves to her waste. She had large, almond shaped eyes which were such a surprising shade of clear, light green, they somehow looked inhuman. They never darkened, and no matter what the lighting was like they always seemed to pick up a glow so that her pupils always seemed too small, like a cat's.

She came from a rich family, and telling from the golden pendant hanging from her neck, she had been born with some kind of title. Her attitude was fitting for such a theory; she was demanding and vain all the time, but so passionate and powerful that most people were too busy getting over the dramatic entrance to stop her getting whatever she wanted. She had an immense hatred for stupid people, but couldn't stand smart-asses, quickly lost patience with timid people even though arrogant bastards made her blood boil too. She loathed goody-two-shoes, but detested no-good-for-nothing low scumbags who lived by no code. She swore like a sailor, swaggered like a prince and could deal out punches likes mules could kick. With a flare for vigilante justice, Donia was a bully who you couldn't help but like anyway, simply because she was so indefensibly obnoxious.

Besides, she led the school rock band. Just because she wasn't famous yet, didn't mean that she couldn't behave like she was.

"Why can't you frickin' walk the rest of the way? We were all at rehearsal; we're all tired too!" puffed Sarah.

"Why can't you carry me the rest of the way?" Doniademandedfrom over Sarah's shoulder. "It's only another block to our street."

"Really, you spoilt brat." Despite her harsh critisim, Katiewas laughing. "You're perfectly capable of walking. I don't believe for an instant that you twisted your ankle back at the school gate."

"How can you prove that? You can't feel my pain!" Donia retortedindignantly.

Sarah muttered under her breath: "We can't feel your _lack_ of pain, either."

"Quiet, you!" Donia smacked her. "I will not have my ride talk back to me."

"Your…ride…" sputtered Sarah. "Your… I'm just going to put you down right here!"

Strong Sarah bent her great knees and gently lowered Donia to the ground despite the noisy protestations.

"How dare you!" howled Donia.

"Hush!" hissed Stephanie. Katie and Jess werein the midst of fits of hysterical giggles.

"Don't hush me! I've been unhorsed!"

"Who are you calling a horse!" snapped Sarah. Katie's laughter exploded.

Steph shook her head. "Really this is so typical."

"Come one, let's go. Let's see how the princess fends for herself, eh?" snarled Sarah.

"Don't you dare leave me! I'll scream my lungs out, I will!" Donia shrieked, her voice rising to a screeching pitch. Lights in the houses around them began to come on.

"Oh _do_ shut up, Donia!" Jess hissed with urgency as the others collectively hushed and hissed in panic. "The lights!" Try as she might, Katie was still snorting with laughter.

"You're walking away with my ride! I'll cry 'Thief'! Heck, I might as well cry 'Rape' and get you all arrested!" answered Donia loudly.

"Who's there?" came a sleepy man's voice from an open doorway across the street.

"Oh for the love of God!" sobbed Sarah bending down and giving Donia a piggy-back again.

"Let's get out of here!" whispered Katie, her laughter dying. "Hurry! I know another way, through this garden."

"Help! Call the police!" screamed Donia. "My name is Seemore! Second name Rectums! These people are kidnapping me!"

Her friends howled with laughter as they ran through somebody's vegetable patch, forded a half-frozen stream and came out on the other end of town.

"Oh good lord!" panted Jess. "Why is it that we alwaysalmost get arrested because of your mouth."

"Seemore Rectums….?" Stephanie repeated in wonder and Katie burst out laughing again. "Seemore…Rectums…"

"Why…am…I…y-y-your…friend?" panted Sarah, letting go of one of Donia's legs and clutching the stitch in her side.

"Coz life would be much more monotone without me."

There was a silence as they all thought about this.

"You're still an arrogant bitch," murmured Sarah, but her tone was loving.

"Yours is not to question why, yours is simply to do or die! Now mush!" cried Donia pointing ahead and bouncing up and down against Sarah's back.

"That way?" asked Jess worriedly.

"I don't know." The princess on her steed shrugged withthe lazy abandon of a rocker punk. "I have no sense of direction."

"Then shut up and let those of us who know what their doing sort this mess out." Katie smiled in the dark. "Steph, this stream and these oak trees would tell me that we're on the west end of town. So we haven't strayed very far, but I have no idea what the clearer path back to the streets would be…"

Stephanie considered the advice seriously for a moment. "Well, let's follow the stream for a while, to skirt the police cars that have probably accumulated around Knutt's Street, and head towards Privet Drive."

Jess squinted up at the street signthat sat on the lamp post onthe farcorner at the endof the street. She couldn't read the name for the phosphoresent glow of the light. "That's a good idea. Privet Drive is always quiet around this type of night. The police are never down there." She paused for a moment then groaned loudly.

"What is it, Jess?" asked Katie worriedly, asthe othersturned to look at her.

Jess howled. "It's happened!"

"What's happened?" asked Sarah concerned.

"I'm running from the police! And it's all Donia's fault!"

More of their laughter filled the empty night air.

"You sound as if you've lived in constant fear of this for a while now!" said Katie.

"_I've_ lived in constant fear of this ever since we met Princess Donia," said Sarah, joggling her burden. "Eh Princess? You hear? We think you're a bit of a tyrant and we're planning a coup!"

No reply. Donia's head lolled limply around on Sarah's shoulder.

"Oh I say!" murmured Katie getting a closer look at Donia's face. "She really must have been tired. She's fallen asleep."

"Oh fuck!" snapped Sarah. "I was going to drop her the nearest chance I got."

"You can still drop her," suggested Jess maliciously.

"Naaaw…" shrugged Sarah gently. "I _do_ love the monster. Despite the hell she puts me through."

They began to trudge on towards the distant lights of street lamps on Privet Drive. Katie eventually broke the silence andsaid, "You know, she mightn't even be really asleep. She can be quite an actress, at times. I still don't believe she twisted her ankle at all."

"We'll have to see tomorrow, when she's in school."Stephanie pushed back a branch to let them all pass. "Speaking of school, how did your presentation on Canadian Baby Seals go, Kate?"

The night seemed to suddenly darken around them. Sarah looked up at the sky sharply, as if expecting the sudden flash of lightning usually associated with the clash of titans in the heavens.

"Not so good, huh?" stuttered Jess hesitantly. Katie took a deep, frustrated breath.

"What happened?" asked Steph.

"I don't understand how people can look into a baby seal's eyes and not want to stop it from being killed!" raged Katie, armsflailing dangerously. Sarah and Jess leapt out of the way and Steph steped back slightly, giving her a wide arena for damage. "I mean! I picked a _cute_ animal for my presentation! A _cute _animal like you told me to, Jess…"

"Yes, yes…" murmured Jess soothingly as Steph nodded encouragingly in the background.

"…I mean," Katie continued the tirade. "It's not like I picked the Naked Mal-rat or the Slimy-Sea Wallaby…"

"Are those native to Earth?" whispered Sarah, her face scrunched up in disgust.

"Of course they are!" snapped Steph sharply. "If Katie had moved on to trying to save Mars, she would have told _us_!"

"…I just don't know what to do." Katie wound down with a depressed sigh. "Why are people so indifferent to bad things happening to our planet?" she asked, sounding a little heartbroken.

"Oh, Kate," breathed Jess sadly clutching her arm with thick, bright pink mittens. "They're not indifferent…they're just…in denial. People want to do the right thing, they just…procrastinate, first."

"I hope you're right, Jess. I hope so, because I can fight denial, but I can't fight indifference."

"Well, you seemed to be the only class that carried on past the ringing of the school bell." said Steph coming forward.

"Yeah," Sarah joined the conversation. "We tuned the guitars and plugged them into the amps and everything then waited a whole hour before you showed up. You must have been doing something right, if they stayed after school so long."

"Yes, exactly." Said Steph. "What did you say?"

There was a moment's silence and Katie's face went fire-engine red with wrath. The tone of voice she spoke with next reminded Sarah of Clint Eastwood, ready to draw his gun in a face off, _'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly'_ style.

"I told them," Kate snarled. "That if they didn't sit their useless hides down in those seats and hear me out I was going to demonstrate the clubbing and skinning of baby seals on all of their mangy, cheap skins personally and with expert workmanship, the no-good, snot-nosed, Playstation- wielding buggers!"

Silence.

"Well, Katie, I hope I'm never on the wrong side of you in a fight," Snorted Sarah as Steph and Jess stood there dumbfounded.

Then suddenlySarah's face contorted.

"My shoulder's wet! Why is my shoulder wet?" she stammered turning the shoulder in question to Katie. It was the one Donia had her head on.

"She's drooled all over you, Sarah." Katie sounded a great deal more chipper than she had a moment ago.

"Aaaaaw! That's disgusting!" wailed Sarah. "The things I do for my friends!"

Their laughter echoed across the deserted pavement of Privet Drive, along with the lonely '_clop-clop' _of their heels. The lampposts reflected green off the pavement, the light holding surrounded forts amidst oceans of darkness. Walking down the silent lane, they talked about the houses around them, how sterile and tidy they looked (except for turned up flowerbed and the hot low-slung violet race car in the driveway of number three), and how this neighborhood was prestigious and snooty in comparison with their own, which was odd, since their families were a middle class and Privet Drive housed high working class families. Sarah commented on how the sterility and frigidity, the immaculate lawns and anally arranged flowerbeds, the tightly drawn curtains, might be a sign of those uncomfortable with who they were…especially the number four Privet Drive people. The mother…what was her name again?

_Petunia,_ Katie interjected.

Ah, yes, Petunia. Odd woman. Always jittery. Well, anyway…

They got to the end of the street and Katie skipped all the way around the last lamppost once, as she always did when they came down Privet Drive, then finally turned the corner to go down Centre Street, to cut across the neighborhood. It wasn't really a street, but a rather wide alleyway for waste disposal at the back of the town's largestfactories, which branched off into other miniature, dark alleyways, generally ending in dead ends.

The girls had no fear walking down it, though, since nothing of worth ever really happened inLittle Whinging, and no danger beyond some elaborately planned school prank was bound to meet them. Even _that_ was far-fetched, as at the momentno one pranked Sarah Ogle and her friends unless they wanted to start an all out pranks war...out of which Sarah would _definitely_ emerge the victor.

"-so I told the stupid bugger to go to hell, really." Steph was talking about her latest messy break-up with her latest handsome and popular beaux. Donia had a theory that boys to Steph were like cars to insanely rich, young men. You kept it until a new and improved, shinier model came along. "I don't know what's wrong with men these days. They're all selfish and childish and immature."

"I agree." Sarah absent-mindedly fingered a fake-blood capsule in her coat pocket that Prefect-Steph (as opposed to friend-Steph who would just shake her head) would probably be obliged to give her a detention for later.

"Well, maybe what you need is an older man, Steph. Someone in their twenties maybe?" suggested Jess tentatively. She really didn't know about relationships. She'd never really had one.

"Timothy _was_ in his twenties,"Steph snipped. "He was as selfish and childish as the rest. Can you believe how he tried to guilt-trip me while we were breaking up? Well, where the hell was _he_ when I needed him? Where the hell was he when…"

"Alright, maybe you need someone even older than that,"Katieinteruppted the familliar tirade,pulling her coat closer around her against the cold October wind. "You're eighteen…it's legal…I think."

"Oh, Katie, I don't know if that'll solve anything. I think it's an entire generation of men that's rank with childishness, really." Steph sighed. "I'm so tired of wearing the pants in relationships. I want someone with brains! A sharp wit…that can cut with a knife!"

"I thought _Jess_ was the epic poet," hissed Sarah, rolling her eyes with irritation. Katie elbowed her subtly.

"I want a _man_!" continued Steph, heedless. "A real man, not a boy! Why are they so hard to find? Our mothers married them!"

"I really think this whole love thing a stupid waste of time," said Sarah, non-chalantly. "You'll never catch _me_ wasting my time moping over the males of our species, I assure you that, ladies."

"I want someone _dark! _And _brooding!_ And …and…_controlling! _Someone with a personality and interests more intellectual than _MarioSmash Brothers Super Smash_!"

"I _like_ Super Mario Smash Brothers…" pouted Katie,getting an addict's sudden craving to clutch a control system.

"Well, I don't!" snapped Steph and a huge argument would have insued had Jess not suddenly interjected, stepping between the both of them.

"Shhhhhh!" she hissed suddenly. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Katie paused to listen.

They all listened.

The voices were coming from the dark mouth of the alleyway they were standing next to.

"That alley's a dud. There's a wall at the end of it. Why would anyone be down there at this time of night?" muttered Sarah.

"Let's go!" begged Jess suddenly. "I'm getting the chills…I feel weird…let's just leave, please."

"No! This might be interesting!" Sarah's eyes shone, suddenly. "It might be Ken Shelley and Emily Collins making out! Or it might be Chris and Jason planning some sort of joke for school! If they are, I want in on it!"

"Sarah! Wait... what about Donia? Sarah?!" hissed Jess furiously as the other girl stealthily set off down the alleyway. Katie, Steph and Jess gave each other a worried look, then followed her.

As they came around a bend in the alleyway, the quiet murmur of voices suddenly unfolded with the image.

Two men were talking in the alleyway. One wason his knees with his back to the dead end wall.The other, a cloaked andtowering giant of what must have beenalmost seven feet, standing before the man on his knees, with his back to the approaching girls.

"What the hell's going on, here?" whispered Katie, a frown creasing her brow, as she stepped forward to get a closer look at the situation.

Jess grabbed her arm and murmured. "Let's just leave!"

"Yeah, I think that one on his knees is givin' the tall bugger head or something, and I'd rather not see that, thanks…" muttered Sarah turning to go.

"_Shut up,_"demanded a quiet voice they hadn't heard for a while.

They turned to Sarah to find that Donia was awake, her eyes shining slightly in the dark, looming like a crouching gargoyle on Sarah's back, staring towards the two men with extended neck and narrowed eyes as she eavesdropped.

"YOU!" sputtered Sarah. "You're…_awake!"_

"Yes, that I am." answered Donia distractedly, still listening to the two men talking. Thier conversation was infinately more interesting than the babbling of her friends.

"You _drooled_ on me!" snarled Sarah furiously.

"It was for effect. You wouldn't have carried me this far if you hadn't believed I was asleep. Now, shush and listen. Haven't you heard what he's said? We may be in big trouble if we're seen."

The others instantly quieted down. If Donia, who had a rather unbalanced idea of what trouble was, admitted that they had a problem, then it usually meant they had a _huge_ problem. They spent the next minute or so, frozen, listening to the snatches of conversation floating towards them.

"…I might have spared you, Arthur, had you relented the boy's location to me." The cloaked figure sneered. His voice was oddly guttural and breathy, bubbly as if he had a blight in his lungs. Katie couldn't help gagging as she heard him speak.

The man on his knees pushed back the glasses on his nose with a shaking hand. He was dirty, bruised and exhausted, as if he'd just been roughed up pretty badly. His bright orange hair wasplastered to his forehead with sweat.

Yet, he looked up at the cloaked figure bravely and said, "You know where he is. It's October. He's at Hogwarts like he alwaysis at this time of year, every year. And you _can't reach him…"_

"Why, then, do you and your pathetic 'Order' stalk the streets of his summer home?" laughed the cloaked figure pointing a funny looking wooden stick, about the length of a long, thick , chop-stick, at the red-headed man Arthur. "_Veritas!" _He wheezed.

For a moment nothing happened and Jess began to speak, saying, "Is that Latin…?" which was followed by four other "shhhhhh!"s. Then, suddenly a horrible blue-white light shot out of the end of the funny-looking chopstick and struck Arthur in the chest. He cried out and gritted his teeth, his back arching painfully then he straightened and faced the cloaked figure as if invisible hands were forcing him to look his assailant in the eye.

The girls gasped collectively and Jess screamed. They would have been discovered had Steph not put her hand quickly over her friend's mouth. Sarah felt Donia's arm tighten around her shoulders with fear and squeezed her friend's ankle steadfastly.

"He's… he's _torturing _him!" Katie whispered in angry disbelief, taking another step forward.

But the man, Arthur, seemed to be oddly in control of the situation. His jaw was clenched, the veins in his temples throbbing but his eyes were wide, and defiant and angry as he faced the man with the stick.

"Is the Potter boy here?" asked the cloaked figure.

"No, he's not," laughed Arthur without mirth.

"Where is the boy?"

"At Hogwarts, like I told you before."

The cloaked figure snarled wordlessly with defeat and the defiant gleam in Arthur's eyes spread into a weak smile even though the whitish blue light shooting out of the other man's chopstick was still hitting him squarely in the chest.

"Why are the Order of the Phoenix here, then?" hissed the cloaked man furiously.

Arthur laughed again. "Because…because _you _were sighted! We got reports that _you _were in the vicinity and we came to see what _you_ were up to!" he laughed again. _"_You've created your own wild goose chase, Voldemort! You've been chasing your own tail_! Harry Potter isn't here_! Nothing of importance is here! We came to see what _you_ were up to and you thought…_you thought…"_

"SILENCE!" roared the one named Voldemort, enraged. "Do you expect me to believe this?"

"I'm under the Veritas curse; I can't exactly lie." Arthur's words werebecoming weak, his eyes becoming unfocused. "Now…if you're…going…going to kill me…do it now…or leave…don't waste anymore of my time_…please_..._"_

"It is _you_ who have wasted _my _time, muggle-lover!" screeched Voldemort, pulling the funny chopstick away from Arthur. The horrible painful looking bluey white light vanished with a crackle. "I should have ended your pathetic life long before tonight, you miserable man! You and your entire, disgraceful brood…"

"_You leave my family alone!"_ yelled Arthur sitting up from the heap he'd collapsed into when the light had dropped him.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" Steph was murmuring in sympathetic horror. The others were frozen, over-whelmed with what they'd stumbled into.

"I cannot think of a time when you did not infringe upon my plans, Arthur. You and your pathetic Order," said Voldemort with disgust. "It shall be a heavy blow wielded against Dumbledore tonight, and a great pleasure for me to finally eradicate you." The girls saw him raise the dangerous chopstick again and they collectively began shaking their heads in panicked denial. "Then I shall slowly pick off your offspring one by one, starting with the eldest. Perhaps I'll leave your wife for the very end, so she can watch all her children dropping like the flies that they are…"

"_BASTARD!" _screamed Arthur scrambling forward weakly on his hands and knees.

"Or maybe I'll save your youngest son till the very last…to savour and kill slowly, since he and his _friend…_ _Potter_, have caused me so much trouble…" the cloaked man chuckled evilly, his grip tightening on his stick as he got ready to shoot Arthur with it again.

"No!" breathed Katie. "No! This can't be happening! I won't let this happen! I can't let this happen! I can't let this happen! I can't let this happen!"

Jess turned around, ready to run out of the alleyway in a panic. To her horror, she discovered that they'd been blocked into the alley by two other cloaked figures, both of which held funny looking chopsticks.

"Good bye, Arthur. Say hello to the Potters for me," hissed Voldemort.

Everything that happened nextwas in a blur of motion that,to this day, cannot be totally unraveled by the poor girls.

The one thing that they do remember, though was the fact that it was little 'Itty-Bitty-Kitty' Dubois who struck the first blow against evil.

With a blood-curdling scream of outrage Katie had launched herself, very much like an angry, pouncing feline, at the tall cloaked figure of Voldemort. She managed toknock him over completely as a bright green neon light shot out of his chopstick at Arthur. The result was that the shot wentwide and struck the wall behind the kneeling man, shattering it into thousands of flying pieces of rubble. The acrid stench of sulfer filled the alley.

At the exact same instant, the other two cloaked figures had thrown back their hoods and raised their chopsticks, aiming them at the other four girls. One was tall woman, with a once beautiful but now withered face, long, black hair and a maddened, savage gleam in her eyes.

The other was an equally tall man, with beautifully kept, long white-blond hair and a pointy, sneeringpale face.

The woman jumped forward and grabbed Jess, who was the nearest to them, by the arm, twisting horribly behind her back until the girl shrieked with pain. "I'll '_Kedavra' _this one, Lucius!" cackled the woman, spittle flying from her mouth.

"Fine, Bellatrix," he smiled eagerly. "I'll get the _fat_ one." He turned to Sarah.

"Filthy muggle!" screamed Voldemort behind them. Donia twisted her neck around and saw that he'd gotten Katie by the throat and was beginning to squeeze softly as he lifted her off the ground. She was flailing and kicking like a bat from hell, but her face was starting to go a deep purple already. "If you had any amount of brains you would flee!"

Arthur rose to his feet trying to help her, but all it took was one well-aimed swipe from the cloaked monster's free arm to down him once again like a tonne of bricks. His head cracked grotesquely off the pavement and he lay still. Donia saw a small pool of blood was blossomingwhere he lay.

_This is it,_ thought Donia. _If we don't move now we're all fucking dead…_

Steph might have gotten the same idea in her head, because in the very next instant, with a howl of anger, she had run at the woman Bellatrix and leapt onto her back, wrapping her legs around the woman's waist and wrapping her hands around Bellatrix's neck.

Jess took this opportunity to bite the hand that held her so hard she took a chunk off it, spat it out, then kicked as hard as she could at Bellatrix's legs. The woman yowled miserably like a mangy mog and flailed madly as Steph grabbed handfuls of her hair and began ripping savagely at it, pulling it out in bloody clumps, screaming, "_You ugly! Wrinkled! Arrogant! Bitch! You delusional! Menopausal CUNT! No one but ME'll be doing any KILLING tonight! How dare you! How dare you threaten us! And scare us! And try to kill US! How dare you twist Jess's arm like that! I'll fucking KILL YOU ALL!"_

Meanwhile, the blond man, Lucius, had been just about to bring his chopstick down on Sarah when, with a quiet '_whoosh'_ of air, Donia sprang off her friend's back and dove to the ground, rolling to her feet. Her movement distracted him for a moment only, but it was enough to give Sarah a chance to knock his hand away from herself.

With an annoyed growl, he grabbed the girl's hair with his other hand, pulling her backwards so far she had to go down on her knees to prevent herself from falling over. He raised his chopstick again, aiming at her throat, this time, and cried, "_Avada Keda--"_ then gave a choked off cry as something whistled through the air and nailed him smack in the throat.

He dropped Sarah and staggered back, clutching his neck and making sounds very like a cat hacking up a hairball. Heregained his balance and turned his hate-saturated gaze towards the smirking and collected source of flying missiles.

"Liked that, didn't you?"Donia threw a piece of rock up into the air and caught it again. Then, without so much as another warning, she'd planted her feet squarely on to the ground and the rock went shooting towards Lucius, smacking him right between the eyes.

She kept going, too, bending down to pick up handfuls of the shattered wall and raining them around the alley on to Bellatrix and Katie's assailant, _what was his name again?_ _Mouldywart? Ah, Voldemort… _Her aim was phenomenal and the strength and speed with which those rocks were flying, impressive to say the least. She could throw with the full force of her entire body behind her arm and her malicious mind and vengefulness directed her hand toward the smaller, sharper rocks, rather than the heavier, blunt ones that wouldn't fly fast or far.

Of all the five girls, it was Donia who'd had the most experience with school-yard brawls, and she didn't see this as much different. You kept your head, you played dirty, and you didn't stop until the opposition was either unconscious or running home with his tail tucked firmly between his legs.

Bellatrix shrieked and went down, Jess and Steph on top of her, ripping, pulling and scratching at her face, crazed by their fear. Lucius too, was knocked off his feet again by the flying rocks. But there was no respite for him on the alley's floor.

Sarah was waiting for him. She eagerly kicked, and kicked again hissing, "This is for calling me_ fat_, you classless shite-eater…"

But a cry of despair distracted her from her fun. She turned to see a horrified Donia desperately throwing rocks at Voldemort to no avail. Katie wouldn't last much longer in his hands. Just as Sarah was thinking this, she saw Donia abandon her missiles and race towards him, grabbing the end of his cloak and pulling with all her might.

She managed to make him stagger back a few steps and drop the suffocating Katie before the entire thing tore, releasing him and revealing what lay underneath the cloak.

A mummified, gaunt face, hairless, noseless and lipless turned towards Donia, eyes large and red as if they were bleeding, with utter and complete loathing coming off him in waves.

"Waaa!" cried Donia in shock more than fear. Then her face contorted into an expression somewhere between disgust and embarrassment on his behalf and she said, "Er…Mr. Phantom, sir? The Opera's in France…"

"Why, you!" he screeched coming towards her, his hands out-stretched like an image from a black and white horror movie.

Donia's mirth vanished and was replaced by pure panic as she backed away from him hurriedly, still clutching his torn cloak, until her back hit the alley wall. He was obviously relishing her terror, walking towards her slowly and deliberately. Katie was still clutching her throat and making weak noises of protest as she tried to scramble towards him, but she wasn't fast or recovered enough to do anything yet.

Donia saw that she'd have to get out of this alone and began to frantically look around her for a way to defend herself. She spotted a length of loose cable piping coming out of the wall next to her head and, in a flash, with all her might, she had grabbed it, braced her feet against the wall and ripped it out by the roots. She stared at it in wonder at her strength; adrenaline was lovely stuff, really. Just narrow enough to get her hands around it snuggly, like a cricket bat, the pipe was about half a meter in length and made of steel.

She wasted no time at all, turning around and bringing her new weapon down across Ugly's arm as he brought up his chopstick to shoot her. Then just as fast, brought it up again and down against his back. There was a horrible _'crunch'_ and _'squelch'_ and Voldemort howled with pain and rage as he hit the alley floor.

Donia was over him in an instant, bending down to drag the coughing Katie up by the arm. "Let's get he fuck out of here!" she yelled running out between the two moaning bundles on the ground towards the alley's exit. The others got up to follow, but Donia and Katie were actually _out_ of the alley before Katie had caught her breath enough to wheeze, "N-n-no!"

"_WHAT!_" shrieked Donia hysterically as Katie wrenched her arm out of her friend's firm grip. Donia's eyes widened in utter disbelief as Sarah, Steph and Jess stampeded past them out of the alleyway and into Center Street.

"I'm going back." Said Katie hoarsely.

"Oh, you're _fucking_ kidding me, Katie…" howled Donia, "You're _fucking_ kidding me.."

"No!" said Katie enraged. "That man, Arthur! He's still back there!"

"_I don't give a flying French faggot who the fuck is still back there!" _Donia was flailing with the extent of her frustration.

"_I'm_ going back and _you_ can do whatever the hell you want to do!" spat Katie. With that, she turned on her heel and ran back into the alley, disappearing into the darkness.

"_Yooooou IDIOT!"_ screamed Donia tearing tufts of her own hair out.

Then she felt a breeze and heard the stomping worthy of a stampeding heard of wildebeest as her other friends shot past her into the alley again, crying, "Katie! No! Katie! Come back, honey! Come back! Katie! Katie!" in worried voices that reminded the crazed Donia of magpies.

"Oh for the love of GOD!" said Donia, her voice breaking. Then, "Well, fine! I'm going home, thanks very much!"

She turned her back on the alley and was about to leave when a scream suddenly erupted, behind her.

It was Jess's scream.

Donia could only imagine what was happening in there. She was definitely _the_ scrapper amongst her friends. They weren't fighters, though all of them _had _had playground skiffs at one point or another; she was the only one out of all them who had made it a regular practice. They wouldn't do too well without her. Even if she went to call the coppers, they'd probably be dead or at least seriously hurt before she came back.

But it wasn't like she was the Mafia either! When it all came down to it, she was just a high school kid too. Albeit she could punch like a jackhammer, but those three adults in there was obviously experts.

And those chopstick things…she'd never heard of guns like those before. What the hell were they? Army-issue, or something? And that man…Voldemort…his decomposing face would give her nightmares till the end of her days…

A cat sitting on an over-flowing dustbin a little way down Center Street watched the girl with curiosity. The animal blinked its strange eyes, which were surrounded by strange square markings in the cat's fur, sensing the instinctive will to survive battle the desire to help her friends fight inside the human.

It only took Donia a moment to make up her mind, but it felt like an eternity of time she was wasting while her friends were fighting for their lives in the alley behind her. Finally, her eyes narrowed with determination and her old, courageous fire burnt in them again, as her grip tightened on her trusty metal pipe once more.

"The things I do for my friends…" she whispered, a smile playing hesitantly on her lips.

She ran back into the alley, and not a second too soon.

Steph and Jess had tangled once more with Bellatrix and Sarah was getting her arm twisted off by Lucius as he once more raised his chopstick to shoot her with it. Donia took a deep breath and flexed her powerful shoulder muscles, feeling her strength ripple down her back and arms. With the confidence of years of practice, she heaved the metal pipe over her left shoulder, gripping it with both hands and twisted her waste around till she was facing backwards the way she'd come.

She let loose like a coiled spring and the pipe went flying out her hands, with frightening speed, spinning in the air, until with a musical 'clang' it bounced off Lucius' head. Or rather, Lucius' head bounced off _it,_ and his chopstick went sliding across the alley's floor as he landed face down in a puddle, that was unfortunately too shallow to drown him.

This freed both Donia and Sarah to help Katie who had, once more, gone after Voldemort. Again, he had their friend by the throat and was laughing wickedly as he choked and shook her relentlessly.

Donia leapt on to his back and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling back, trying to strangle him too. Sarah had cleverly grabbed his chopstick hand and was frantically trying to keep it pointed away from herself or her friends.

From her seven-foot tall perch, Donia saw Jess let go of Bellatrix and run towards them to help.

At the same time, though, Lucius managed to raised his head from his puddle and unsteadily get to his feet scrambling after his chopstick. He got it just as Jess was halfway between Bellatrix and Voldemort. Turning, he aimed it at the running girl, shouting, "_Petrificus Totalus!"_

Donia screamed as a pink ray of light shot out of the wand, striking Jess in the back. Poor Jess froze in mid-step and slammed to the ground like a plank of wood. Donia screamed again and Katie gave a pained cry of despair, either for Jess or because she was fast running out of oxygen twice in one night.

But they soon had trouble of their own.

In her shock, Donia's grip had slackened on Voldemort's neck. Sarah cried out a warning, but it was too late. Voldemort had dropped Katie against the alley wall and had reached behind him. With immense strength, he managed to fling Donia over his head and into the wall. She didn't make a sound as she slid down, head first and landed next to the sobbing Katie who wrapped protective arms around her.

Lucius pried Steph off Bellatrix by her hair and held her back long enough for Bellatrix to get the her feet and point her chopstick at the girl. "_Cruciatus_!" hissed the woman and a horrible purple light shot out of the chopstick, striking Steph in the chest.

The girl yelled for an instant, then, convulsing, curled up into the foetal position, shuddering uncontrollably, in too much pain to breath, let alone scream. The veins in her forehead stood out under the strain of her agony, blood oozed out of her nose. It was evident that she would soon have a stroke if no one came to her aid.

Sarah saw this and let go of Voldemort's arm, rushing to Steph's aid. Then she stopped and froze like a deer in headlights, as Lucius turned and trained his chopstick on her, his gaze full of malicious triumph.

Sarah was too scared to see her life flashing before her eyes. She was vaguely aware of a high, hysterical screaming coming from behind her, which she recognized as Katie's. _It's alright, Katie,_ she thought gently. _It's okay…please don't scream like that, dear…it's alright…it's going to be alright…_

Then, like a bullet being shot through water, a voice broke through her calm haze with one word.

"_EXPELLIARMUS!"_ cried Arthur getting to his feet unsteadily. Lucius's stick went flying out of his hand and Sarah felt breath rush back into lungs.

"_Finite Incantum!" _he shouted pointing his chopstick at Steph, who instantly stopped shuddering and uncurled with a sigh, her eyes closing.

_"Mobiliaris_!" he yelled, aiming at Jess, a white light coming out of his stick and striking her just as it had struck Steph before her.

But then, Voldemort suddenly turned on Arthur and said, "Expeliarmus!" Arthur's wand flew out of his hand. Voldemort said something else softly and Arthur fell backwards violently as if invisible hands had pulled his feet from under him. "Enough of this foolery!" hissed Voldemort. "There will be nothing left of you for you families to bury. I think it is time I took a page out of Wormtail's book…"

He raised his arms as if in prayer and a ball of electric green light surrounded his chopstick. Lucius and Bellatrix took several steps back to the farthest corners of the alley, mouths and eyes wide with eagerness. Donia opened her eyes just in time to take all this in and both she and Katie wrapped their arms around one another, gritting their teeth and hiding their face in one another's shoulders.

Sarah stood frozen once more, exhausted out of her mind, unable to think past her trauma.

Steph lay on the ground, lifeless.

And Jess ran towards Voldemort with no clear idea of what the hell she was going to do.

All that happened next happened so fast that years after it actually occurred those who had seen it happen couldn't believe the simplicity of the entire situation.

Out of nowhere, more people in stupid cloaks began popping out of thin air, appearing in the alley without so much as a puff of smoke. These new people rushed to surround Lucius and Bellatrix, who appeared panicked and afraid.

There was a young woman, not much older than Steph, with a shock of purple hair. There was a tall, black man, with a stern, handsome face and a golden ministry badge pinned to his chest and finally, a tall, ancient looking man with flowing white hair and an equally white beard, tucked into his blue belt.

Many more people began to pop into the alley until there were at least ten new-comers. "Stop!" someone yelled. "Stop in the Name of the Order of The Phoenix and the Ministry of Magic!"

"My Lord!" cried Lucius. "We must leave!"

The cat that had been watching Donia outside the alley leapt in front of him and morphed into a skinny woman with square specs on her nose and a tightly wound bun which seemed to stretch her angry eyebrows a bit.

"Wow!" breathed Donia. "I must've hit my head harder than I thought…"

"McGonagal!" hissed Bellatrix.

"Leave those children be." replied the cat-woman.

"You're just in time, Dumbledore!" laughed Voldemort, bring his arm down to point at Katie and Donia.

But when he looked back towards his two targets he found himself face to face with tiny, little Jess.

"Huh?" he breathed in surprise, seeing her look of obstinate determination. His moment of confusion cost him dearly.

Not a split second too soon, she put her hand on his glowing chopstick, gripped half of it firmly in her hand…

…and _snapped it in two._

The glow died instantly with a faint, insulting _'pop!'_.

Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Everyone stood there, staring aghast at Jess, who stood there with one half of Voldemort's stick still in her hand.

"What…just happened?" asked Katie fearfully, thinking she'd missed something.

Jess just stood there, nervously looking around at the frozen adults, expecting some sort of retaliation from somewhere soon.

Voldemort stared at her in complete shock. "The…m-m-muggle…" he stopped. Then started again. "Y-you…just _BROKE_ …my wand…"

Silence as he and Jess looked each other in the eye, both with a look of total confusion on their face. Sarah, who was standing a way back observing this, could feel the lack of understanding flowing off both of them in waves. She let out a soft, hysterical giggle and sank to the ground, unconscious.

"Wow…" said one of the new-comers, a man with a scarred, but kind and tired face, in worn out robes and graying hair. "She…just…broke VOLDEMORT's wand…"

"I take it this is a big thing…" said Donia loudly from where she and Katie were curled up on the ground. This seemed to bring some life back into the adults, but no one moved yet. Katie whimpered discouragingly and Donia looked up to see Voldemort's rage returning to him.

"YOU BROKE MY WAND!" he screamed at Jess, who finally cracked under the pressure and cried out:

"I'm sorry it seemed like a good idea, at the time!" cowering and covering her head with her arms.

Voldemort roared with absolute rage and for a brief moment neon green flames flared up out of nowhere, dancing up and down his uplifted arms, making Jess shreik and turn to run away.

The other adults present were frozen in shocked horror. Apparently, the flame thing was _new._

Voldemort hauled back and swatted Jessica across the face with such force that her lip split and she was sent hurtling back against the brick wall.Both Katie and Doniawailed as Jess' skull met the bricks with a sickening _crack_. The slight girl tumbled forward and before she could flop to the ground, Voldemort had her by the front of her blood-spattered school uniform and raised herface to his eye-level.

"Your impunity shall _not_ go unrewarded, Muggle!" he snarled, baring sharp teeth.

"TOM!" the eldery man hollared and Voldemort paused, turning his head slowly to stare with widebleeding eyes at the speaker.

With an unexpected snarl,Voldemort simply let go. Jess, no longer supported by his viscious grip, dropped face-first to the pavement and stayed there. She lifted her head dazedly.

"Don't let him get away!" cried the old man with the white beard and hair, but it was too late.

"Enjoy breathing for now. When we get to you, you're dead, muggle," hissed Lucius as he ran past Jess towards the Dark Lord.

The new-comers leapt into action but the culpritswere far too fast. Bellatrix and Lucius had alreadygrabbedVoldemortand in a flash of light, they were gone as if they'd never been.

The last thing that Jess remembered before she too blacked out was the big, black man with the golden 'Auror' badge saying, "Well, this is just great. What the Hell are we supposed to do with these muggles, Dumbledore?"


	2. Houses and Hystrionics

**Harry Potter and the Purple Bullseye**

by Goddess of Spite

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Author's Note: Yay! My Beta could Beat up your Beta! No MY Beta could beat up your Beta! Have you read her fanfic yet? Harry Potter and The New Neighbour?

Beta's Note: rolls eyes Lurve you too, nut.

* * *

**Chapter 2. Houses and Hystrionics**

"Well..." said Katie. "This is going to be…interesting."

She looked out of the Hogwart's express compartment window at the grey, soggy English moores, uniform and forlorn as they whizzed past. Somehow, being uprooted from your home and whisked away to somewhere unknown made October a whole lot more depressing than it usually was.

Beside her, Sarah stretched, wincing as her sprained arm ached in protest. "Personally, Katie, 'interesting' isn't the word I'd use to describe our situation."

"What word would you use, then?" huffed Katie impatiently. Jess shook her head wearily.

They'd all been jumping down each other's throats all day. Things in the compartment were a little..._tense_.

"_Shitty,_" snapped Donia from the seat opposite Katie. " 'Shitty' is the word I'd use to describe our current situation."

Jess sighed, trying not to breathe in too deeply. That would cause pain. Pain was Bad. "Oh would you mellow out, Donia?" If there was one thing they were agreeing on, it was that Donia in the most pessimistic about this whole Wizarding Witness Protection Program thingy.

It's not like the British government hadn't bent over backwards to acommodate this... what was his name? Minister Chocolate guy? They had all agreed that this was the best for both themselves and their familes.

Their parents hadn't liked it any more than they had, but what choice was there?

At least the five girls had the comfort of knowing that thier parents had no clue that the psycho mob bossout for thier blood was actually a wand-waving lunatic. Well, HALF a wand-waving lunatic, now.

They were on a train, on their way to Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft, all alone on the strange scarlet locomotivesave for a handful of prefects from the school, put on the train to watch out for them and make sure they didn't get into trouble like 'good little girls.'

So far, they hadn't met any of the prefects. They weren't thinking about it, really, but deep down inside, the girls were starting to wonder why. It was an eerie feeling to be on a huge train, knowing that somewhere there were fourother people on it thatyou hadn't met yet.

Jess had read about this sort of thing. People who'd been through trauma together often folded in on themselves in a 'small, tightly knit community'. Her friends and herself had already been a 'tightly knit community' to begin with…she could only wonder how introverted they'd become after their ordeal.

She looked about the coach, studying the other girls sadly.

They all looked pale, drawn and tired. They had refused treatment from the Medi-Wizard when they had arrived at St. Mungo's. The five muggle girls had spent enough time at the end of a chopstick that night, thank you very much.

Sevendays had passed between then and now, and no one was looking any better for it.

Katie looked lonely and her skin looked sallow. She had deep circles under her eyes because she'd been either unable to sleep, orplagued with nightmares and the bruised imprint of a hand (a very clear palm and five digits) glowed painfully purple around her white throat. She sighed softly, peering out of the window at the rivulets of rain sliding across the glass from right to left as the train sped along the English countryside.

One of Sarah's arms was in a sling, thanks to the force Lucius had used while twisting it. It wasn't anything serious, but she said the joint hurt her when shemoved it. She'd had a huge round bruise on her side, too, from where Lucius had struck her at one point. She looked defiantly annoyed, a look Jess was used to when Sarah was pissed at something. But Jess wasn't used to the quiet, underlying helpless quality that could be clearly seen in her normally cheerful friend's eyes.

Steph didn't appear to have any outward wounds, but she twitched ever so slightly everytime anyone around her moved suddenly. She was jittery and her hands constantly shook slightly. Occasionally, her nose would start bleeding of its own accord. Jess had a feeling that something neurological had been seriously damaged by that 'Pain' curse that had been used on her friend. Steph was currently looking at her hands, contemplating them as they lay in her lap, shivering and wondering if they'd ever be still again.

Donia had a horrible black bruise on the right side of her head from when she'd hit the alley wall. It was under her hair so you could barely see it. Her friends occasionally noticed that she was rather unsteady on her feet, and tended to miss when she reached for things.Other than that, there was nothing wrong with her…physically. On a mental level, though, Jess had never seen the girl in a fouler mood. She said nothing to anyone formost of the week, but when she spoke, she either had a fit or said something short, sharp and poisonous. She was currently looking out of the window, forehead pressed against the cold glass. Jess assumed it was to drive away the hot headache the doctor said she'd have for a few days.

And Jess herself? Well, she was actually the worst off than all of them put together.

Aside from the concussion that slamming into thebrick wall had caused, she had spent the last few days battling nausea, vertigo, exhaustion, and trouble with her depth perception. She had allowed the Medi-Witch to charm the nasty cut on herscalp closed, but nothing after that.

It had annoyed her to no end to be woken up on the hour, every hour, for forty-eight hours following the fight, but she knew that it was necessary.

Besides that,Bellatrix had managed to ring in a few sharp blows before Steph had come to her aid, so various parts of Jess' body were quite swollen and painful. Thanks to the 'Freezing' spell that Lucius had cast on her, she'd fallen roughly to ground and now had a very painful, sprained right wrist, which was currently wrapped in bandages. There was alsonot to mention a split lip, and a severly bruised cheek and shoulder bone from Voldemort's vicious back hand.

Oh, and of course, saving the best for last, apparently there was a price on her head amongst Voldemort's followers, who according to what Dumbledore had told them, were a _very_ nasty bunch. Voldemort not only hated her guts and wanted her dead, but also, Dumbledore had explained, would channel all his energies into finding her because she _still had the other half of his wand_.

Steph had instantly screeched, "We'll get rid of it! We'll burn it!"

Dumbledore had explained that then Voldemort would be able to just go out and get a new one. With his wand still repairable, if not whole, another wand would reject him. Secondly, wands were like spouses. Voldemort had had this one for a long, long time now.It had grown on him. No Muggle was going to take away _his_ wand, the wand with the phoenix feather, the wand that was thenemisis to Harry Potter's. No Muggle wouldtwart Lord Voldemortand live. He wanted_his_ wand back.

Steph cocked her head. "Still not seeing the advantage of _keeping_ and not _burning_."

Dumbledore went on to say that while the wand was usless, Voldemort was in limbo. He had to rely on his Death Eaters to do all his dirty work. Jessica, although unwittingly, had effectively put a firm stop to any major Death Eater activities. Without a wand, Voldemort couldn't so much as _summon_ his followers, let alone communicate with them.

No, Jess would keep the other half of the wand on her at all times. She'd be perfectly safe at Hogwarts, and keeping their eye on a single person was easier for the Order of the Phoenix than keeping their eye on a tiny piece of wood.

They had fallen silent, Jess remembered.

Jessica had become both a protector and a target. Dumbledore informed them that he was confident in her ability to defend to her death the other half of the wand. Jess had agreed - she would die before Voldemort got it back.

But not because she wanted to.

It was the 'dying' part that kinda sucked, though.

Then, in her strange and unique way of showing total despair, Donia had picked up a permanent marker from the confrence table, walked up to Jess…and drawn a huge, purple bull's eye in the middle of her forehead before the others had jumped up and grabbed her arms or Jess could back away.

So now, Jess also had a huge, purple bull's eye on her forehead. No amount of scrubbing would remove the indelible marker. It would have to wait out its lifetime, Katie had said, which was about a week or two. They had collectively berated Donia for her outrageous behavior, but she had already fallen into one of her long silences and merely spent the entire time looking out of the St. Mungo's windows, into the streets of London, where normal folk, with normal problems walked about in the rain.

* * *

So they were on the train to a school called Hogwarts.

Hogwarts…who the hell called a school '_Hogwarts_'? Sounded like the official name for a strange and rather embarrassingly disfiguring skin disease.

Jess was just musing on the strangeness of their situation for the thousandth timethat week when suddenly the carriage door opened and one of the elusive prefects popped his head in. He took one look at them, his gaze lingering for a moment on the purple bull's eye drawn on Jess' forehead, and grinned to himself.

Not one of the girls liked the grin very much.

"Aah," he said softly. His voice was deep and calm. "How quaint. Just a few examples of the muggle female, cornered and powerless as usual. Tell me, if any of you _can_,does your kind _ever_ get tired of being theposterior of the cosmic joke?"

He got no reply.

For one thing, the person who was quick with the insulting replies, Donia, was fast asleep, her head against the cool train window. For another, being spoken to like that by a complete stranger who you haven't in anyway offended can throw one for quite a loop.

"What? Got nothing to say? Aah, I see. It's the lack of comprehension. It's all over your, er… faces, I think." He bent down and squinted at Steph's face as if he couldn't tell which side of her was up.

"Do you know what I heard the other day?" he said his tone pleasant and surprised. "I heard that muggles are only one step up from animals. A sub species, if you will. Maybe a little less developed than the average human, but who can blame you, really…" he grinned again and brought one of his hands up to brush back his platinum blond hair.

A silver Prefect badge flashed maliciously on his shirt and an embroidered sheild with a green twisted serpent revealed itself on the front of his robes.

"Um, excuse me," said Sarah suddenly. "Don't mean to interupt your highly elloquent tirade, here (note my sarcasm) but…who the HELL are you?"

His smile widened even more.

"Aah! It _can_ speak. How marvelously gauche. I'm ...Draco... Malfoy." He said loudly, and slowly as if speaking to a small child.

"Draco?"echoed Steph. "What kind of name is 'Draco'?"

For some reason, Stephanie saying this made the rude prefect smile a little less, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

"And do you, Mr. Malfoy, always go around insulting random strangers?" added Sarah.

"You're not random strangers. You're muggles," he replied sneering.

_Ah, _thought Steph. _The comment on the name's riled him up. Well, who can blame him, with a name like that?_

"Should that word mean anything to us?" asked Katie airily. "Mr. Donnie Darko…oh I mean, Darko Malfee…no, I mean Dark Chocolate Melfae, or is it Darkass Malfee Walfee…"

The pleasantness had completely lost him, now. His smile had become almost a sneer, grotesquely stretched, his canines pointy and parted as if for a kill.

"Think you're funny do you?" he hissed suddenly. "Well, that's just fine. You go ahead. I suppose I can attribute such…unwise behavior… on your lack of development. Otherwise you'd know that the likes of _you _can't afford to make fun of anyone. Especially me."

Katie stood up. "I've had enough of this! You.Out._ Now._"

"I'm sorry. What did you say? I don't speak _primate._"

"Bite me, you albino pillock!" snarled Sarah. "You started this! If you can't take it in, don't dish it out!"

"Albino!" The blood drained out of his face and the smile was completely gone, now. "How dare you. I'm not Albino. I'm blond!"

"No, mate! I hate to break it to you, but you're a frickin' albino."

Katie giggled suddenly. "Not that there's anything wrong with regular albinos, Mr. Malfunction, but you're a particularly obnoxious one. You're like a bad rash, really. You come on suddenly and really badly, you're mildly annoying but ignorable and you just won't go away! It's perfect, really. Including the name that sounds like it came out of a medical textbook!"

He turned on Katie as Steph tugged warningly on her sleeve.

Draco sneered. "It seems that you muggles haven't been trained well. I think I'm going to have to teach you a few manners when talking to your betters. You know, I hate resorting to my magic to teach your kind a lesson. I always feel like it's waste of my education…"

Katie finally snapped. "You can just sod off.You _and_ your education."

"You're going to wish you hadn't spoken to me like that, muggle," he snarled.

"Hey!" yelled Donia, who'd been startledawakewhen Katie and Sarah had respectively leapt to their feet. "Who's _he_? What's _his_ problem?"

"Apparently, we're getting flak because we don't have chopsticks!" laughed Jess. "What the hell does he mean by magic anyway? Can you pull a bunny out of a hat? Oooooh, such a _special_ gift!"

"Yeah!" snorted Sarah. " 'Short-bus' special!"

"Oh, you'd like to see my magic would you?" For some reason, his smile was suddenly back.

"Um…guys…." began Steph warningly.

"Yeah!" yelled Katie. "Yeah! I'd like to see your magic, you Torii elitist freak!"

"No, Katie, hang on…"

"Let her, Steph!" shouted Donia angrily. "What the hell's he going to do anyway? Pull a 'Matrix' and melt her lips together?"

"What a brilliant idea!" he said with warmth and excitment. "Maybe it'll teach her to watch what she says, next time, like the good little puppy that she is, poor thing…"

"Why you filthy little…" screeched Katie charging at him. In a second he'd pulled out a wand from between his robes and with a flick of his wrist a bright yellow light shot out of the wand and hit Katie's face with a force that sent her careening into Sarah.

The girls yelled in surprise as their friends went tumbling to the floor of the compartment. Steph instantly bent forward to help Katie sit up when they heard a muffled wail come from the girl.

"K-katie?" murmured Jess hesitantly. Then, "Oh my God! Katie!"

Katie had no lips. Her mouth had been firmly melded shut by the spell. Her eyes were wild and panicked and her hands were up at her face searching desperately for her mouth.

The prefect, their so-called protector, guffawed as if this was the funniest thing in the world, clutching his sides as the girls squirmed and squealed helplessly in horror.

"Hang on Katie, don't panic! Don't panic!" Steph was saying in a rather shrill voice, while Jess openly sobbed on Sarah's shoulder.

"Oh my God!" gasped Sarah. "Oh my God! How did he do that? How could anyone do that?"

"Now do you understand, you stupid muggles?" he hissed at them. They all turned to look at him. He had their undivided attention, now. "You won't last a _week_ at Hogwarts. You're going to wish you'd never interfered with the Dark Lord. I'll make sure of-"

"Draco Malfoy, what _are_ you doing?" said a voice from outside the compartment door all of a sudden.

He turned to look at the speaker, the expression on his face partly annoyance, partly disgust.

"Oh, it's Granger, patron saint of all things redundant and muggle. Come! Come and save your kind from the clutches of evil little old me! Maybe you can form another union, for the protection of muggles and call it after another discriptive bodily function," he drawled.

And with that, he spun around on his heel and left.

The speaker from behind the door poked their head into the compartment, her hand pushing a shoulder length cloud of bushy hair out of her face. "Sorry about him, he's a complete twat, really. Just- Oh good Lord! What's he done to you?"

Her large brown eyes took in the situation with quite a bit of shock, but the moment she'd gotten over her initial surprise, she was in the compartment and waving her wand again at the much calmer Katie. In a flash of orange, Katie's lips were back to normal again (that is to say: they were _back_) and she was being hugged by Sarah, Jess and Steph.

Katie breathed a sigh of releif and then looked towards where her last friend sat. Donia had been exceedingly quiet throughout the turbulent happenings of the past ten minutes. She'd just sat there and stared with a funny shell-shocked expression on her face.

"Donia, are you alright?" asked Katie softly, her hand creeping up to grasp her friend's. This wasn't like Donia. She was usually the one up and ready, with a plan of defense, somehow. The clammy fingers beneath her own and the green tinge to Donia's face and the passivity in a time of danger all served to make Katie feel more miserable than ever.

"We're dead." Said Donia softly. "We're so dead."

"Donia, come on…" began Jess gently.

"NO!" she cried getting to her feet. "They _hate_ us! And we're _going to them!"_

"We don't all hate you," said the newcomer sympathetically. "Some of us _are_ you."

"I've got to go to the bathroom," said Donia suddenly. "I'm going to throw up…"

She got to her feet and forcefully stumbled out of the compartment slamming the door shut behind her.

"Will she be alright?" asked Granger, who, incidentally, was turning out to be quite a decent person.

"We don't know…we've never seen her like this…" said Sarah.

"I have." Jess piped up suddenly. "She's 'recuperating'. She'll be back…in more ways than one. Trust me."

There was a deep silence as the others contemplated this statement, but it was soon broken by Granger suddenly saying, "Excuse me…I don't mean to pry, but…_why_ is there a purple bullseye on your forehead?"

* * *

Donia staggered to the toilet compartment and shut the door on herself. She turned and sat on the toilet, holding her head in her hands, her ambitious lengths of black hair falling around her. Tears squeezed out of her eyes despite her best efforts.

She wanted to go home.

Five minutes later, after she'd made sure that there weren't any telltale tears on her lashes and that her nose wasn't too red from blowing it into harsh toilet paper, she was ready to go back to the compartment and face her friends. She opened the door and was about to walk out when she caught a gleam ofbleach-blonde hair at the end of the corridor.

It was that fucker, Malfoy. He hadn't noticed her yet.

With strength leant to her by terror, she slammed the toilet door shut again and locked it. She began hyperventilating, thinking wildly that she should have asked that girl, Granger, to come with her to the bathroom.

It was too late to think on that now, though. All she could do was lean against the door with her back and hope he didn't have a magic that would make it disappear or something.

The compartment's doorknob rattled precariously for a moment and she heard him swear colorfully at the inconvenience of it being in use. Then, she heard the sound of the door to the compartment right next to the bathroom open and she heard his footsteps as he walked into it. There was the muffled hum of voices and Donia leaned with her ear against the thin metal wall to listen in on the conversation.

"…bathroom's occupied," she heard him say.

"Yeah, one of the new girls is in there," said another voice, distinctly female.

"Oh! One of the primates? If I'd known that I'd have knocked a little harder!" Malfoy laughed.

"Shut up, Malfoy. Don't call them that, and leave them alone. They've done nothing to you," saida third, male, voice.

"Oh, the little Ravenclaw's got balls after all. What's the matter, Finch-Fletchly? Got a crush on a muggle?"

"Oh just shut up, Malfoy, you're giving everyone a headache," saidthe girl's voice from the other end of the compartment.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know you and Finch-Fletchley were going out, Abbot," Malfoysneered, "or I wouldn't have mentioned his sordid cross-species fantasies. A Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw. How quaint."

"Justin and I are not going out. And they're not a different species, you prick!" said the girl. "Non-magical people are just as human as you or me…"

"Not as human as _me_, Abbot,"Malfoy spat with relish. "Maybe as human as _you_, but then again you don't set the bar very high, now do you?"

Donia had had enough of this. He was a complete bastard to everyone, apparently. She thought for a moment then realized that the girl, Abbot, was right. He was human. Albeit he had…odd and insane powers (that no person should really be allowed to have, but what can you do) but he was still human.

_And humans feel pain._

Her culture, her world…well, the non-magical part of it at least, had been causing other humans pain since the beginning of time without magic. She could still make him pay for what he did to Katie, wand or no wand.

Yeah.

_Yeah._

Donia got to her feet, wiped the sweat off her brow and straightened her clothing.

Her friends and her _would_ last a week at Hogwarts. They were going to last however long it took to catch the psycho Voldemort.

And not only were they going to 'last', but they were also going to have _fun._

_That's right.

* * *

_

She got back into the compartment halfway through a sentence that the girl, Granger, was saying. They all looked up at her apprehensively as she closed the door behind her.

"What?" she asked a little more violently than she'd intended.

"Nothing," said Jess, giving her a watery smile.

"Then stop staring. I'm fine."A slight smile escaped the thin line of her lips. She made her way to the empty seat next to Sarah. Granger was squashed between Katie and Steph.

"Who's this, then?" Donia asked nodding at Granger.

"My name's Hermione Granger. I'm a prefect of Gryffindor house and I'm--" began the girl sticking her hand out. Donia took it to shake as Sarah interrupted suddenly with,

"Why are you smiling?"

"What?" said Donia.

"You left upset. Why are you smiling?" repeated Sarah.

Hermione looked a little confused, but the others were all looking at Donia with full focus, now.

"I feel better," she declared, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes, but _why_ is the rum gone?" asked Jess. Granger flashed her a funny look. "You never _just_ feel better. You're a pessimist by nature, Donia. There has to be a good reason why you've just pulled a Dr. Jeckel…"

"A Dr. Jeckel?" Donia's eyes widened.

"Does this really matter right now?" asked Katie suddenly. "It's a good thing that Donia's feeling better, isn't it? And we've got a new friend who's really weirded out, right now…"

"Oh no, it's alright. I'm a muggle myself. I understand all the slang... I think."Hermione attempted a reassuring smile, and _almost _suceeded.

"You…_are_?" Jess looked surprised.

"But you have magic!" said Katie. She was sitting the closest to Hermione and the two of them seemed to have made instant friends in the few minutes that Donia had stolen to go to the bathroom.

"Well, technically, I'm a mudblood, I guess…but that's a terrible word. A derogatory term, really, like calling a person of African decent the 'N' word. Malfoy uses it on me all the time, though…"

"What a classy guy." snarled Sarah. "Class with a capital 'Ass'."

"What's that word mean? 'Mud…blood'?" asked Jess.

"It means I have muggle parents even though I have magic."

"You can do that?" said Donia, surprise painted on her face.

"Oh yes. Some of the best witches and wizards are of muggle decent. I think magic is some sort of recessive gene or something. Nobody's researched it, I don't think, though. The magic folk don't do science and the science folk don't know that magic exists! Kind of sad really, how both worlds are kept apart." Said Hermione.

"Not sad at all, if you ask me." Hissed Donia under her breath.

"Oh don't judge us all by Malfoy, please."Hermione said, sadly. "Like I said, most of us are of muggle decent one way or another. It's only the Slytherins that you really have to fear, but I promise my friends and I will keep an eye on you, just in case."

"Your friends?" said Donia.

"Yeah, Hermione's friends with Harry Potter," said Jess.

"I'm sorry, who?" asked Donia again.

"That boy, Harry. Dumbledore told us all about him and his feud with Voldemort."

"_Stop_!" yelled Hermione suddenly. The others jumped and stared at her. "You can't call him that, notat Hogwarts."

"What _do _we call him?" asked Steph.

" 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'."

"What?" Steph looked scandalized.

"Yeah, what a load of crap!" snorted Sarah.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," said Jess softly. "But I think we're in agreement that giving him some sort of 'godly' title infers that he deserves respect. I don't think my friends and I are ready to allow him that, even if it doesn't mean much in the way of resisting him."

Hermione sat silently for a moment, looking pensive, then she broke into a dazzling smile and said, "I think we're going to be great friends. It's going to be a great year!"

"You have _no_ idea." Said Donia under her breath.

* * *

When it came time, they changed into their school robes in the compartment together. Hermione was quite taken a back by this excersice in collective contortion, but she soon discovered that there really were _no_ secrets between _these_ friends. 

"You lost a little weight?" Katie asked Donia as she took off her pants.

"I don't know, is my butt smaller?" Donia replied, who was in nothing but a pair of pink knickers.

" 'Fat' chance of that!" roared Sarah. "Get it! 'Fat' chance?"

"Oh shut up!" screeched Donia pulled Sarah's pants down.

"Eeek!" squealed Sarah shoving Jess, who went flying into a very undressed Steph.

"Oi, look! The redheads are at it again! Stop it, you too!" said Sarah loudly.

"Steph and Jess always wind up in some sort of precarious suggestive position by complete mistake, somehow." Katie explained to Hermione, who was laughing so hard, she'd teared up. "It's a running joke."

"Look, do I have to break out the hose?" Sarah tapped her foot as a very embarrassed Stephanie and Jessica tried to untangle themselves from one another. The others just laughed.

Soon, all uniforms were on and in tip-top shape.

"Hey!" said Hermione, pointing to Sarah and Donia. "Your uniforms are different."

"Yeah, Sarah and I asked for boys' uniforms instead," Doniaexplained with a flippant hand gesture. "We did the same at our own school."

"They're just more comfortable in pants," Jess intoned gravely, with a smirk pulling on the corner of her lips.

"I didn't even know you could do that," said Hermione.

"It's surprising what a few muggles can find out when they ask, isn't it?" Katie said in her airy suggestive tone as they hopped out of the train.

A little further down on the platform, the other three prefects hopped off the train too. Malfoy instantly gave them all a snarl prize-winning in its savagery and stalked off towards what appeared to be horse-less carriages awaiting their arrival. Apparently Malfoys waited for no one.

He might have been disappointed to note that his display of malice went virtually unnoticed because the five girls had just met Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper.

"Oh cor! You're, like….hugely massive!" said Sarah with awe, craning her neck to try to get a good look at him.

Jess had given a squeak and had dodged behind Hermione when she'd first set eyes on him. Now she emerged blushing shamefacedly as Donia drawled, "You must forgive Jessica. While you're still hugely massive to all of us, youre even more so to Jess, since she's, you know…vertically challenged!"

"Oh shut up!" snapped Jess extending her hand to Hagrid as Sarah roared with laughter. "Hello, Mr. Hagrid. How do you do?"

"Mr.! I'm no Mr.! Just call me 'agrid, Jess-cur, and we'll soon be right friendly!" he boomed, his large brown eyes were sweet and honest. "Maybe I'll intruduce you to my Missus, sometime, when she comes down for Christmas, pur'aps. She works in France, ye know…"

"Oooh! France! I love France! Je parle francais, hien?" Jess beamed and her and Hagrid began to chat between themselves as they hauled luggage to the carriages.

Hermione smiled and turned to help Katie haul the last few bags off the train. "Is that a guitar?" she asked suddenly seeing the long, dark case that Katie was gently putting on the platform.

"Yes. It's Sarah's bass."

"Oh, there's more! Are you a band?"

"Yeah, we are. We're quite good, too." Said Katie. "I'm the drummer. We started really young and they made me the drummer because I eat a whole lot of sugar and have so much energy, the others worried I'd start a revolution or something…"

"Wow," breathed Hermione. "What do you play?"

"We cover bands, mostly. A lot of heavier stuff, actually. Donia's a rocker so she really demands a low 'sap-factor' she calls it. The rest of us need some mellow stuff sometimes, though, and she indulges us."

"What do _you_ like listening to?" asked Hermione shyly.

Katie looked at her and smiled/blushed. "Um, I listen to a lot of oldies. I _love_ soul music and 'R'n'B'."

"Me too!" cried Hermione.

"Really?" Katie looked delighted.

"Yeah! This is so cool!"

"Oi! Buck up, you two!" yelled Sarah, hanging out of the carriage window.

Katie and Hermione clambered up the steps into the carriage and found themselves comfortably uncomfortably squashed with the others.

Stephstuck her head out of the window for a second, then sat back, face twisted with puzzlement. "There are... no horses."

Hermione smiled. "There are - you just can't see them."

And because they were heading towards a School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, nobody said anything more on the subject.

"So, Hermione," said Jess casually. "Have we missed much this year? Will we have a lot of catching up to do?"

Hermione's face fell. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Jess, but there's nothing in the way of Muggle academics. All we do up at Hogwarts is study magic."

The girls stopped chattering and looked at her.

"Really?" said Jess softly, obviously crushed.

"Well, it's no problem." said Steph, flipping her hair over her shoulder coolly and smiling with conviction. "We brought our books and curriculums…it's not like our own teachers didn't give us work to do for the entire year."

"Yeah, but we won't be in _classes,_" said Sarah morosely. "Just another way Hogwarts is going to emphasize that we don't belong. That we're not welcome."

* * *

By the time they got out of the carriage beneath the great shadow of the sleeping monster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the enormity of what they were about to do had quite sunk in. Steph barely had time to take in thedistant gamekeeper's hut on the edge of the ominous wood, the placid lake, andthe great knotted willow tree on the grounds before they were herded into the actual castle.They were feeling quite frightened and small as Hermione led them across thefoyer and to the bottom of a great stairway, where they were supposed to await further instructions.

A boy and girl in school robes coughed nervously as they approached.

"Hermione," said the boy. "You found them."

"Oh hello, Justin. Yes, I was with them the entire time, on the train. Hello, Hanna."

"Hi, Hermione," said the girl warmly. "Hello. Welcome to Hogwarts. I'm Hanna Abbot and I'm one of the Hufflepuff House prefects."

"And I'm Justin Finch-Fletchly. I'm a Ravenclaw House Prefect," said Justin, extending his hand.

"I see Malfoy is no-where to be seen," snapped Hermione with distaste.

"No skin off _our_ shoulders, if you ask me," said Justin angrily. "I caught myself almost rearranging his face a few times, on the train. I can't understand how Snape could ever pick _him_ to be a prefect."

"Well, he's one of the few _smart_ people in Slytherin. Maybe that's the reason. You know, all that inbreeding tends to pare down on the available brain cells." Hanna smirked and Justin grinned, nodding.

Someone at the top of the stairs cleared their throat and the youngsters jumped collectively, looking up.

"Hey Sarah!" Steph exclaimed suddenly. "It's that _cat-woman_…from the alleyway, remember?"

"Oh, yeaaaah," breathed Sarah her eyes widening.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said the woman at the top of the stairs. Then she paused, her sharp eyes flicking over the assembled students. "Miss Granger, where is Mr. Malfoy?"

"Not here, Professor," said Hermione meaningfully.

"Aah," said the woman a deep frown creasing her already strict features. "I shall have to inform him that it'll be twenty points from Slytherin for shirking him duties, then."

Justin and Hannah giggled in the background and Jess leaned over to Katie and murmured, "I like _her_."

"Well, anyhow, I have a list here from Professor Dumbledore. As I read out the names, please inform me of your presence. Katherine Dubois…"

"Here."

"Jessica Frey…"

"Here."

"Stephanie Lalonde…"

"Here!"

"Sarah Ogle."

"Here!"

"And Donia Sawwan?"

"Here!"

"Right then," said the woman. "All accounted for. I'm Professor McGonagal. Please follow me into the Great Hall. I would suggest sticking sitting at the Gryffindor table, for now."

"Oh _great!"_whispered Hermione excitedly. "That's my house!"

" I am the Head of that house and am responsible for any discomfort the students in it may give you. Please report any such nonsense to me."

"Yes, Professor McGonagal," answered the girls in unison, feeling that maybe, just maybe, Hogwarts wasn't so bad, after all.

* * *

That only lasted until they walked into the great hall and were confronted with the vast amounts of students who were all sitting there having their dinner.

All talking stopped as they walked in. The force of the sudden silence and stares was so powerful that the girls stopped dead in their tracks at the door and held their breath.

"Come on," said Hermione comfortingly. "Be brave. It won't be that bad."

Donia took a deep breath and a step foreword and that broke the spell. The others followed, clustered together like refugees from a war.

Hermione led them to the end of the Gryfindor table and she sat down, sidling next to a boy with firey orange hair who made space for her.

The girls followed and sat down next to her. Jess sat in front of Hermione, next to a boy who smiled kindly at her through his glasses and made space for her too. Steph clambered in next to her. Katie sat next to Hermione followed by Donia, then Sarah.

"Hello, Hermione! You brought the muggles over." Said the redhead leaning foreward to get a good look at the girls. "Hi! I'm Ron Weasley."

The girls all muttered their subdued replies and introductions.

The mood of doom and gloom was soon lifted, though as soon as it was revealed that Weasley had two twin brothers repeating their final year at Hogwarts and a sister a year younger that Ron, who were all very very friendly and highly interested in all things muggle. The girls didn't take much time to make friends with Fred, George, Ron and Ginny Weasely. Sarah and the two twins soon discovered their shared affinity for practical jokes, leading Fred and George into telling hell all about the business they had opened, that summer, by renting shop in a near by town, Hogsmeade.

"It's really close, so we can hop down there and check on it every now and then. But our Mum watches it most of the time. We made a deal with her, see. She had to watch the shop for us if she wanted us to come back and take our NEWTs," said Fred. Or was it George?

"I totally understand." Said Sarah. "I wanted to join a circus but my parents wanted me to take do my A Levels, too!"

"Are you serious?" Fred and George stared at her.

"No. I just wanted to quit school, but joining the circus sounds fun, doesn't it?"

"Here, have a cream pie," Ron put one in Donia's plate.

"This is amazing." Said Katie. "Who makes all this food?"

"The house elves, of course," said Ron.

"Oh! The school must be really rich, then, if they pay them for gourmet food!" laughed Katie. She didn't understand why Ron and Hermione didn't laugh.

"Here it comes…" muttered Ron.

"It's absolutely disgraceful and I am sooooooo ashamed of my school, but I'm afraid we don't pay the house elves at all!" said Hermione heatedly. "In fact, they don't get vacations or anything or even sick leave."

"What!" Katie was horrified. "That…that's slavery! That's inhumane!"

"Well, it's alright, because they're _not_ human!" said Ron, trying to calm Katie down.

"That's no excuse!" she yelled. "They're sentient, aren't they?" She turned to Hermione. "Do they have benefits? Health insurance? Retirement savings? Please tell me they get _something_!"

"I think Katie's found a cause at Hogwarts," said Jess quietly to the boy sitting next to her. "Only a matter of time, really."

"Her and Hermione will get along just great, then," said the equally quiet boy smiling at her from beneath his messy black hair. "Which is good. Hermione's really wanted a female friend for a long time, now. I think Ron and I are too…male…for her, sometimes. She's friends with Ginny too, but I don't think they share the same interests."

"Wow, you know her really well," said Jess taking a good look at him for the first time.

"She's my best friend," he said. "I care about her."

They sat in silence for a moment, until he turned to her suddenly, as if remembering he'd forgotten his manners, and said, "Hi, I'm--"

"Harry Potter,"Jess finished, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

"How'd you know?" he asked.

"The scar on your forehead. Dumbledore told me Voldemeort gave it to you."

"Um…yeah. I'm kind of embarrassed about it…"

"Oh, I'm sorry….I'm…My name is--"

"Jess Frey," he said grinning.

"How'd…how'd you know?" she grinned back.

"You've got a bullseye on your forehead. About as distinctive as a lightning-bolt scar, don't you agree?"

She blinked.

"Dumbledore told me all about you guys running into him in the alley. You saved Mr. Weasley's life."

"Mr. Weasley? Wait! Is he…"

"Ron's dad. And Fred's. And George's and Ginny's. He's kind of like my dad too, in a way. Except not really…I think it's the real reason Fred and George agreed to come back to Hogwarts this year. To keep an eye on you five."

"Oh." She gasped feeling like someone had just punched her in the stomach. She looked around the table at the redheaded children, finally seeing the resemblance and understanding their instant, if sudden, open friendship.

"So…so how does one go around surviving the Lord of all that is Dark and Dangerous coming after them, Harry Potter?"she asked, taking a sip from her goblet and frowning at it. "Is this _pumpkin_ juice?"

"With good friends and allies," replied Harry picking up a dish of baked potatoes. "Yes, that _is _pumpkin juice. Would you like a potato?"

"Oi!" someone yelled down the table.

Harry turned and said, "What?"

"Pass the pies, again, Harry." It was Ron. "Donia likes 'em!"

"Yeah they're great! But someone pass me some roast beef too!" she yelled back.

"Oh, we've got a meat-lover at the table!" cried George. "Let's have a race!"

"Fine, but I must warn you that you'll be competing with a real life human carnivore, Weasley." Said Sarah putting a towel over her arm and massaging Donia's shoulders as if the girl were a prize boxer getting ready to enter the ring.

"Yeah, yeah! Put your _mouth_ where your money is, muggle!" said Fred, placing a plate of roast beef in front George.

"Right!" called Sarah. "These are the rules: we start with beef, go on to chicken and work our way slowly into eggs and finish off with turkey."

"What, no fish?" said Donia, and the crowd who had gathered to watch laughed.

"Not this time, monster," said Sarah grinning. "If you have to barf, do it _away_ from people you like, please! No kicking under the table; I want this to be a clean fight. He or she who eats the most protein by the end of the night wins! Got it?"

"Yes!" both George and Donia yelled.

"Awesome. Are we ready? Steady? GO!" she screamed ramming a ladel against the table, making several goblets spill their contents.

"Bets! Bets anyone! Bets!" called Fred passing out bits of napkin with George or Donia's name scribbled on them.

"Come on, people, pay for your entertainment. Bet something!" called Sarah. "This is limited time only, once in a lifetime showmanship!"

"What happens if there's a tie?" asked Lee Jordan. "This is my ten knuts, here."

"Pick a side, Jordan!" said Fred.

"No, you _can_ bet on a tie!" said Sarah. She leaned closer to Fred. "Let the money come in, Fredy-boy. Let the money come in! Wait, what the hell is that?" She pointed at a silver coin in his hand.

"A Sickle. Wizard money."

Sarah shrugged. "Coin is coin. If it can be spent, I'll take it."

He looked at her in awe for a moment, then turned back to Lee grinning. "Yeah, bet on a tie, if you like…"

There was a horrendous _crunch_ and people's 'Ooooohs' and 'Aaaaaaahs' coming from the direction of the table. Several Ravenclaws looked scandalized, while the hufflepuffs were already cheering wildly. Donia was smiling arrogantly through a full mouth of chicken, apparently, a bone with a bite-shaped mark in it gripped tightly in her left hand.

"COR!" Lee's eyes widened in disbeleif. "She bit through the bone! I'm betting on _her_!"

"Listen, Ogle! That's not fair! She should be disqualified for biting through the bone!" said Fred.

"Definitely not!" yelled Sarah. "The bone's part of the chicken, isn't it? In fact, I should disqualify Fred for not eating any bone! Call your brother a carnivore! Ha!"

"I'm Fred! He's George!"

"Oops! Sorry! But no go disqualifying my player!"

"I'll go to the union!"

"The union of what? Disgruntled Twins? Sore Losers? Competing Carrot-Tops?" she laughed and he shook his head in wonder at her, thinking that maybe he was at risk of falling in love.

"Here!" cried Ginny coming foreward with money. "I want to bet too!"

"Ginny! You can't bet! I'll tell Mum," yelled Ron.

"Ron," she said turning to him. "Did _you _bet?"

"Yes, but…"

"But nothing. If you tell Mum, I'll tell Mum…then we'll both be in trouble." She smiled sweetly at her brother.

"Ooooh, I like _her," _Sarah said to Fred, nodding towards Ginny, as they counted the money they'd gotten so far.

"Yeah, I do too. She's my little sister, you know…Oi, Ogle, your player's stopped eating."

"What?" Sarah turned worriedly to look at Donia.

Donia had indeed stopped eating.

She'd frozen her mouth full of egg, her eyes burning like two green coals, like a cat's eyes as it watches particularly infuriating prey, staring and staring and staring with venom at the person who had just walked into the Great Hall.

The doors boomed behind Malfoy as he strode in, showing no evidence of his day of travel and the dusty carriage ride,shiny as a new penny. Somehow, the fact that the Slytherin table rumbled with greeting and excitement at his appearance didn't sit well with Donia. Neither did the fact that he strode in with a perfect, confident smirk on his face, his clothes immaculate, his teeth pointed and dazzling, his hair reflecting light like a halo.

The Hufflepuffs sitting at the table right next to the Slytherins cringed at his appearance.

He was too perfect., too powerful. He needed…a little fashion statement to improve him in Donia's eyes.

Oh, yes, she could feel it now, the burning heated feeling rising from her stomach to her ears, making her break out in an instant eager sweat. Her left arm twitched. She wanted to throw something. She _needed_ to throw something.

She could definitely improve his appearance.

"Donia, what the hell…" began Sarah frantically.

"Sarah!" Steph, who had been talking to Dean Thomas (a muggle born too, and a very nice one, at that) stood up alarmed. "Sarah! I told you not to put Donia into any food races! She gets stomach cramps! What kind of a friend are you!"

"Oh, chill, Steph! She can handle it!" snapped Sarah in an anger panic now; she was losing money, here! "She won't barf!"

"That's not the point, Sarah!" yelled Steph.

"Ron, can you pass me another cream pie, please?" murmured Donia suddenly.

"Um, sure," he said hesitantly.

"What? That's not protein!" roared Fred.

"Donia! What the hell are you doing!" cried Sarah pulling on her own hair.

"Duck," was all Donia said.

"What!" Fred, Sarah, Lee Jordan and Ginny said in unison, confusion obvious on their faces.

Steph's eyes widen and she quickly crawled under the table.

"_Duck!"_ Donia hissed again, her face twisted in a savage snarl of effort and hatred as she rose from her seat with the cream pie in her left hand.

"Oh... _shite_!" cried Sarah pulling the slightly slow Fred down next to her as she dove for cover.

"Mooomph!" came George's muffled exclaimation as Ginny pulled him off his seat and under the table just in time to avoid the mighty and speedy flight of Ron's cream pie.It careened across the Great Hall with impressive force and flew squarely and _perfectly_ into the side of Draco Malfoy's face.

Nothing moved.

No one breathed.

Even the teachers sitting at the high table sat there, their jaws on their chests (all except for Dumbledore who just sat there with raised eyebrows) in complete and utter disbeleif.

Sarah, Katie, Jess and Steph were the only ones in the hall with perfectly straight faces, even as two of their number quietly poked their heads out from beneath the table. When one of them decided to wage war, the others didn't question, they just joined. Yet, they all understood how serious the situation had become. This was their first night and Donia had already chosen to attack someone who wasan integrated part of the school community, even if he _was_ an asshole.

Oddly enough, it was Draco who made the first movement. The dish was still stuck to the side of his face that was towards the Gryffindor table, so he rotated tensely on his heels 'till he was facing the source of the cream pie.

When their eyes locked, Donia felt the fury come through his gaze like a physical force. He was livid. She had possibly never seen anyone so angry in her life.

_It was perfect_.

"What…" he began calmly, though his eyes were dark with wrath, his face drained of any colour it had possessed, his nostrils flared and the muscle at his jaw worked furiously. "…was _that_?"

"Oh that?" she smirked, folding her arms across her chest. "that was a cream pie, Malfoy."

"Yes, I know it was a cream pie. What did you think you were _doing_ with it?" he hissed, spittle flying from his mouth. His face was now getting quite pink with restrained fury.

"Throwing it, Malfoy. What I just did... that's called _throwing_. Easy, now. Don't hurt yourself learning too much, there."

Laughter broke about all through the Hall, except from the Slytherin table. Only snarls came from there.

"Think you're funny, do you, muggle?" he murmured suddenly. His tone shut the laughing up pretty effectively. "You'll soon be regretting this stunt."

"I don't know." Said Donia grinning. "It would take a lot to make me regret _this_, Malfoy. You look great, by the way…"

Again laughter exploded through the great Hall until a voice from the high table shouted.

"You! Girl! _Come here_!"

"Oh no," Ron hissed. "It's Snape. He's head of Slytherin. You're in for it, now."

"Oh no, I'm not,"whispered Donia. "Watch me."

She got out of her seat and wiped her hands off on the napkin Steph offered her.

"Is she always like that?" Ron asked Steph.

"Yes. It's why I've been her friend for all these years."

Donia stood in front of the high table and looked up at Snape.

"Yes sir?" she asked calmly.

"How dare you behave so heinously towards one of you peers? What kind of school have you been too before coming to Hogwarts?" he said, digust evident on his face.

"Hey!" snapped Katie. "What's his problem?"

"Him?" said Ron angrily. "He's got a big, fat porcupine stuck up his…"

"A school where they'd never put a sociopathic lunatic with magical powers on train with five non-magical people who have no idea how to protect themselves against him," answered Donia loudly. "He melted my friend's mouth shut!"

"Really?" spat Snape. "Well, according to the level of noise that was coming from your table five minutes ago, I would judge that you've all got your mouths back, isn't that so?"

"No thanks to _him._"

"Nevertheless," Snape sneered unpleasantly. "I'm going to have to punish your astounding behavior by taking points from your house. Twenty points from Gryffindor!" he cried.

"What!" roared Fred and George in unison getting to their feet. Professor McGonagal, too, was on her feet and arguing heatedly with the cool, calm Snape.

There was uproar in the entire Hall at this injustice until Donia's voice suddenly rose above the noise and she said, "I'm not _in_ Gryffindor."

Silence.

"What?" Snape frowned at her.

"I'm not in Gryffindor." She repeated. "I've just been sitting there because that's what I've been told to do. But I don't have a house. So you can't take points off me."

Another long drawn silence as people held their breaths, wondering if this would fly as an excuse.

"Is this true?" asked Snape leaning forward to talk to the seated Dumbledore, past the standing Professor McGonagal.

"I'm afraid so, Severus," replied Dumbledore getting slowly to his feet, at last. "I was going to let the girls have dinner before allocating them to their separate houses, but it appears, that the consequences of such a decision were not completely anticipated by me."

"Oh," was all Snape could say. "Oh."

"I think it is time to address the placement of the new students," said Dumbledore, addressing the whole room. "Will the young ladies at Gryffindor table please approach?"

Sarah, Steph, Jess and Katie looked at one another, then got up hesitantly to go to the front of the Hall.

"Well, it has been a long and eventful week for you girls, hasn't it?" Dumbledore said kindly, his voice and his eyes gentle,leaning over the table to take a good look at them all. "I trust no _lasting_ harm has been done any of you by…unkind peers on the train ride?"

"No, sir," they all mumbled in unison.

"Aah, that is good, then." He said nodding thoughtfully. "Well, the rest of the students have been informed of the extraordinary feats of bravery and selflessness which have, I am sad to see, caused you much toil and trauma and for which you are here, requiring the shelter and protection of Hogwarts. Therefore, to Hogwarts, you are welcome." He bowed to them.

" 'To Hogwarts you are welcome', 'welcome to Hogwarts.' People keep saying it but I'm just not feeling it," Sarah muttered in Steph's ear.

"There is the matter of your places of residence, though." Dumbledore began to speak again. "It is quite a confusing one, actually. Normally, at Hogwarts, we use the Sorting Hat to decide what house you will be allocated to. As matters stand though, we are unable to use the Sorting Hat because, technically you _cannot_ be placed in any house. You have no magic."

The girls collectively drooped.

"So, it is left up to your choices. Luckily, there happen to be only five more rooms available in the entirety of Hogwarts. Unluckily, though, they are in separate parts of the castle. You will have to sleep separately I am afraid."

The girls drooped even more. Dumbledore smiled. "But you may spend every waking hour in each other's presence. Does that console you?"

The girls nodded hesitantly.

"Well, then," he straightened up. "There is the difficult matter of where to place you. We have a private room in each of the houses andone room in the teacher's quarters. You may pick and choose between yourselves where you wish to sleep…"

"I'll take Slytherin,"Donia said loudly, and immediately.

Everyone, including her own friends stared at her incredulously. Draco Malfoy's right eye was twitching. Snape was in such shock that he could not even react.

"What?" cried Stephanie. "Donia…wha…_why_?!"

"Because I want that house."

"May I be permitted to hear the motivation behind such a choice, Miss Sawwan?" asked Dumbledore smiling down at her.

"Because," she said smiling back up at him. There was a twinkle in his eye that suggested that maybe he'd anticipated her choice. "I was in Green House at my other school, which is the equivalent of Slytherin here, I think. Slytherin House seems quite warm and friendly towards muggles and I anticipate that we'd have a lot to learn from one another in the time that I will spend here."

"Aah," said Dumbledore straightening up and looking at his flabbergasted colleagues. "I think that is a good answer."

This was so outrageous that Snape could only sit there and blink as the situation became more and more difficult to reverse. Dumbledore was _really_ going to put that girl in his house! _Snape's_ house!

"Donia, you don't have to do this! You could share a bed with me, I won't mind!" said Jess desperately grabbing her arm.

"Oh no, I'll be quite fine, thanks, Jess," Donia replied, smiling coolly. She turned her head to look at Slytherin table and caught the dirty looks they were collectively giving her. Several of them were pounding their fists into their other hand suggestively and many more were mouthing silent threats in her direction. Draco Malfoy was joyously laughing as if she'd done him the best favour in the world, walking into his clutches. "Aah, yes. I'll be _just_ fine," she said, facing forwards again.

"Right then, it is decided." Said Dumbledore when Donia started listening again. "Miss Dubois shall take the room in Gryffindor. Miss Ogle the one in Hufflepuff; Miss Frey, the Ravenclaw room. Miss Lalonde shall reside with us in the teacher's quarters and Miss Sawwan shall reside in the Slytherin Dungeon."

"Do you still want to take points off me, Professor Snape?" asked Donia non-chalantly as they turned to go sit down again. There was muffled laughter from the rest of the hall.

"No, I shall content myself with giving you a detention, Miss Sawwan," he hissed.

"Great. I'll see you later, then," she sneered back as she strode off towards the Gryffindor table.


	3. Scream Like a Girl

**Chapter 3. Scream like a Girl**

The ultimate blow at the end of this relatively miserable day came right after dinner, as Hermione hesitantly got up and smiled sadly at the five girls. Their chattering had once more died into silence and they'd looked at one another fearfully. It was time to say good-bye to the security of each other's presence for the night.

"This is stupid," murmured Stephanie. "It's like…divide and conquer! What's the point in dividing us up like this? It _can't _be safe."

None of the others said anything. They'd all heard Dumbledore: there had been no other rooms available. It wasn't anyone else's fault Voldemort was after them. It wasn't fair to ask five established students to forfeit their rooms and go into other houses for the sake of their comfort.

So, one by one, without looking each other in the eye, they too began leaving the Great Hall to go to their various houses.

Katie was the first to leave, with Hermione, Harry, Ginny and Ron. Her four new friends were avidly chatting about Divination class and how Ron had, apparently, foreseen his own beheading in a teacup that morning.

Katie, who for some reason, was quite sure she wasn't getting the exact gist of whatever Ron was talking about (either that, or his friends were taking the news of his future demise _very_ well indeed), couldn't help but cast a sorrowful glance back at her four friends, just before the doors boomed shut, leaving them still sitting in a crestfallen silence at Gryffindor Table. Half of her wanted to go back and sit with them, but the other half of her was so, so very afraid of wandering Hogwarts' halls and corridors on her own, later at night, trying to find Gryffindor Tower.

She was soon glad she'd chosen to leave with Hermione, though, when they turned a corner and on the second floor, and were suddenly besieged by missiles being thrown from the shadowy rafters above their heads.

"Aaaargh!" snarled Harry. "Peeves! I _swear_ to God I'll set Filch on you!"

"What's going on?" Katie whimpered, her eyes wide with shock as she quickly side-stepped a flying rotten orange.

"It's Peeves, the resident poltergeist." Hermione dragged the bewildered girl along after them as they dodged back behind the corner wall. "This is _so_ inconvenient! I have Arithmancy homework to do, I don't have time for this!"

"A p-p-poltergeist?" Katie was caught feeling like this _just_ had to be some sort of weird, weird dream, for the hundredth time that week. Witches and wizards? Magic wands? _Schools_ to teach magic _AND_ a poltergeist? What next!

"Easy, Hermione." Ron looked worriedly at Katie, as he expertly dodged a well-aimed, fetid apple. "Don't break her brain- OW! _Yuck!_ He _got_ me! _Bugger_! That was my _clean _shirt!"

"Oh, right!" Hermione turned back to Katie and made a sympathetic, grimacing face. "Sorry... I should've warned you. But since we're on the subject, the paintings are sentient. So are the suits of armor."

Katie's eyes and mouth widened to twice their original size as she desperately tried to get her mind around the entire situation. "The castle is _haunted_? The paintings are _sentient_? _And_ the suits of armor? OH. MY. _GOD_!"

"_Hermione!"_ yelled Ron.

"Oh my _God_!"

"Hermione, I don't think that's what Ron meant when he said take it easy on her…" Ginny grimaced.

"Well, she's not going to be _less_ surprised, is she? A suit of armor either walks or it doesn't and she's going to be shocked no matter how gently I try to- oh look OUT!"

"_Oh my God_!" cried Katie as Hermione and Harry each grabbed one of her arms and hauled her down before a cascade of brown, squishy, furry grapes rained down on all of them.

"Ew!"

"Oh, gross!"

"Disgusting!"

"Oh _MY_ God!" Katie wailed again. "The others don't know! They're going to be _terrified! _I've got to go back!_"_

"Look, it's not like you _can _go back and warn them," said Ginny, gently. "If we move, Peeves'll nail us."

"It's Potter the Rotter!" came a nasal, bitter voice from the rafters above. "Potter the Rotter and his sneaky friends! What's this, a muggle with you? Well, have some fruit!" Peeves cackled wickedly and the barrage of rotten vegetation was renewed.

"The paintings are _sentient! _What's next, the bricks in the walls talking back?!"

"Well, there's this one stair on the way up the North Tower that cusses at you…" mused Ginny.

"I just can't win…" Katie muttered under her breath.

"_Oi! Potter You Rotter,_

_Sneaky as an Otter,_

_Always creepin' _

_Out of bed_

_When you shouldn't ought-er!"_ shrieked Peeves at the top of his ghostly lungs.

"Why don't they just throw him out!" raged Ron angrily, plastering himself against the wall in hope of providing as little surface area for Peeves to target as possible. "We're going to be stuck here all night."

Hermione was horrified. "Oh no, don't say that! I have _Arithmancy_ homework! Oh no! Oh No! Harry! Ron! You're the _men_ in this group! _Do_ something! You must _do_ something, Ron!"

"Her-Mio-NE! LET! GO! OF! MY! SLEEVE!"

"No wait!" Excitement was evident in Harry's voice. He was the brave person who'd stuck his head around the corner to take a peak. "It's the Bloody Baron! He's coming down the corridor! We're saved!"

"Thank God!" said Ginny. "I needed the bathroom…"

"The Bloody Baron's the Slytherin ghost," explained Hermione, instantly calm. "He's the only person Peeves is really afraid of."

"Oh!" Katie blinked and smiled hesitantly. "Are some of the ghosts…g-good…ghosts?"

"Oh, yeah," Ron replied enthusiastically. "You should meet _our_ ghost, Nearly-Headless-Nick. He's _wicked_!"

"How can he be…_nearly_ headless?" asked Katie not sure she wanted to know.

"_Potter you Rotter…" _Peeves began again, then suddenly his tone changed completely to one of sniveling deference and the friends heard him say, "Oh! Evening, your Blood-y-ness…I-I was just leaving. I'm going now…"

It was as easy as that. The rain of fruit, long past its prime, had stopped and a deep silence followed where only a moment ago, there'd been a whiney, oddly inignorably voice. Harry was about to lead the way around the corner, again, when suddenly, he gave a gasp and reversed, backing up into Ginny and Ron, who had started to follow him.

"What's wrong-" began Katie. Then she saw for herself.

A moment before she saw it, a chill had descended around her and the hairs on the back of her neck had stood on end for no apparent reason. A feeling of inexplicable subdued dread had filled the bottom of her stomach like a stone, or bad milk.

Then, around the corner, came a man, ethereal and white all over, as transparent as chiffon, floating about five inches off the ground.

As flimsy as he physically appeared to be, Katie could understand why the other four just stood there silently, out of his way, hoping he wouldn't notice them as he floated past. She could understand why Peeves the Poltergeist would flee before this apparition. She could even understand how this could be the Slytherin ghost.

A nasty ghost for a nasty house, she guessed.

The Baron whisped on by them, giving them no more notice than a cursory glance with his cavernous, vacant eyes...or eye sockets, really.

The students waited till he'd disappeared around the other corner before getting on the move again.

"That's the Bloody Baron, Katie." Ron nodded after him.

"Um, yeah," was all she could say.

"I'm going to run on ahead," Hermione said suddenly. "I have to start my Arithmancy homework in one minute and fifteen seconds and that'll never happen at the rate we're walking."

With that, she took off at a sprint, leaving them staring after her with slightly disturbed look on their faces.

"She reaches new heights of madness each year." Ron shook his head slowly. "Remember when she was taking twice as many subjects as anyone else, in third year? And she needed the time-turner?"

"What's a time-turner?" asked Katie.

"What's a time-turner?" Ron echoed, goggling at her. "I think we have a story to tell, Harry."

* * *

Jess was the next to take her leave of her friends. The Ravenclaws had been slowly leaving in droves of threes and fours for the past hour or so and now the last pair, two girls who'd been talking earnestly over an open book all through dinner, got up to go.

"I-I think I'll follow them to my room, now," she said. "Good night, guys. Sleep well."

The others smiled bravely for her as she left the great hall, trailing the two Ravenclaws at a respectful distance. It took her no time at all to notice that the paintings were moving, but her delight was overridden by her fear of being alone in the corridors, so she kept moving and made a mental note to come back and look at the paintings later.

The Ravenclaws had their rooms in the West wing of the castle, near the library, Jess noted much to her own pleasure. Maybe, she'd picked the best house to be in, after all. She _wanted_ to learn more about this world; she _wanted_ to find out about the magic way of life and to read their books and study them.

Why, their paintings moved! And their carriages were drawn with invisible horses! And their gamekeeper was a friendly giant!

Voldemort seemed a very distant memory from where she stood. She was safe, in this huge place of learning and lore and…_magic_.

"Excuse me," she ran to keep up with the two girls as they came to a large painting hanging low on a wall. "Excuse me, do all your paintings-"

"_Password,"_ he solemn looking monk clutching a rolled up parchment in the painting demanded.

"Shee-it!" breathed Jess, then she blushed as she took in the way the two Ravenclaws were looking at her: with pity and a kind of sympathetic disgust that you might have for a little, mangy pup who'd followed you home.

Poor Jess was suddenly very aware of her heeling lip and bruised face.

"Bookworms," one of the girls intoned loudly, and the painting swung aside, revealing the doorway to the Ravenclaw headquarters.

"Oh good! You brought the muggle," said a loud voice from inside as Jess stepped through the hole after the girls. "I forgot to wait for you." Justin-The-Prefect came running up to Jess.

"Sssssshhh!" hissed a girl who'd been sitting next to the fireplace, reading.

"Sorry," Justin hissed back, embarrassed.

In fact, Jess noticed, everyone was either reading or writing. There were rolls of parchment discarded everywhere and random open inkwells, pen, blotters, blotting powder…the whole nine yards.

"So, there are just a few rules that I have to inform you of, just so you can fit in without too much friction, you know?" He smiled at her.

"Fit in?" She raised an eyebrow. He didn't notice.

"It's time for homework after seven p.m., and therefore, no noise is allowed after that time, I'm afraid. If there's a team project, or study group or collaborative work, it must be done in the library or in the great hall. But silence is imperative, Jessica. I cannot _tell_ you how important it is."

"Um…" her eyes swiveled from side to side looking for a confirming look from anyone that this was some sort of joke.

"Secondly, lights are out at midnight. We all need good sleep to stay awake and focused in class the next day and if you haven't got it through your head by then, well…" he shrugged.

"O…kay?"

"Right, I think that's all, for now. Oh, and no food in the common room. Stains our work. If you need anything, I'm one prefect and that girl over there, studying Potions?" he pointed at a fairly attractive girl, with long, shiny black hair and almond-shaped black eyes. "That's Cho Chang, the other Prefect."

"Ssssssssshhhhh!" This time it was about five people in unison, shushing them.

"Yeah, sorry! Sorry!" Justin winced. Then, he shrugged at Jess, smiling kindly and picked up his own book, taking it across the room where he sat down and promptly began avidly reading.

Jess was left, standing in the middle of the room, with the expression of a deer in headlights painted on her face. She turned around once, taking in all three hundred and sixty degrees of furiously studying Ravenclaws.

_Well, I can't just stand here,_ she thought.

So, she walked quietly to a large table off to one side in the room, the one covered from end to end with parchment and writing utensils, (not a single ball-point pen among them) and looked at the books that were piled on it.

_Hogwarts: A History_ leapt out at her instantly.

"Um, does anyone need this-" she began.

"SSSSSsssssh!" hissed the group of noise Nazis from the same corner.

Jess flinched. _This was impossible!_

A girl who'd been sitting at the table frowning over about three feet of parchment silently picked up the book and held it out to Jess with a distracted smile.

"_Thank you,"_ Jess mouthed and the girl nodded briefly before getting back to her homework.

Well, at least she, too, had a book now.

And she _liked_ reading, so this ought to be alright, actually. Except for Sarah, Katie, Steph and Donia, Jess wasn't really the kind to make friends or socialize. After all, books argued less, and were less touchy, and weepy and didn't have bad moods or senseless infatuations with the opposite sex, or senseless feuds with the _same_ sex…

Also, _this_ one was turning out to be quite the read!

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is the oldest institution for the organized and lawful teaching of magic in the entirety of Europe. Dating from the days of King Henry the Second-And-A-Bit, Hogwarts has been sending owls to all those with magical potential from all corners of the British Isles, that is including Wales, Scotland and both Irelands, inviting them to pursue the development of their skills in a safe and productive environment

The houses of Hogwarts were first brought together by the four progenitors of the school, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff, with the intention of…

"Ahem."

Jess looked up, then to her left.

The girl who'd attracted her attention looked as though she was in pain.

"Yes?" whispered Jess.

"I can't study with you sitting next to me."

"Excuse me?"

"I can't concentrate with you sitting here!"

"Why? Is my breathing too loud?" hissed Jess, finally losing her temper.

"No! It's just…just…you're a muggle and…I just can't concentrate…I…" the girl squirmed uncomfortably.

"It's alright. Fine. Don't worry about it." Jess snapped the big book shut, and got to her feet wearily. "You wouldn't happen to know where my room is, would you?" she asked a little louder than she intended.

The girl managed to shake her head mutely before someone hissed, "Ssssssssshhhhh!" violently.

Fuck you all, thought Jess suddenly.

"Can someone please tell me where my room is?" she said loudly.

"SSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

"Hi, Jess?" murmured Cho Chang appearing suddenly at her elbow and smiling nicely. "I know where your room is. Would you follow me?"

"Yeah, sure," replied the fed up muggle.

They headed towards a doorway at one end of the room with a small gold plaque at its mouth saying, "Girls" and Cho lead her down it to the very last room at the very end of the corridor.

"Here you go," she said, opening the door. "It's your own little room. I put a lamp in it, anticipating that you'll probably want to read after lights are out."

"Thank you," Jess sighed with relief.

"No problem. Oh, by the way, I'm sorry about them," Cho bobbed her head towards the end of the corridor where the Ravenclaw common room was. "They're not usually like that. It's just that exams are in eight weeks and we're in a bit of a collective panic, you know…"

"Eight weeks…"

"Yes. Well, Please don't hesitate to find me if you need anything. I'm in the third room down from you, on the right, okay?"

"…right."

"Good night." Cho had almost closed the door behind her entirely when she suddenly reopened it again and said, "Um, can I ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"You sat next to Harry Potter at dinner…"

"Yes?"

"How did you find him?"

Jess was taken aback by the question, but answered it honestly, if with apparent confusion.

"Um…nice enough, I guess…?"

"Yeah, he is, isn't he." Cho nodded pleased at something. Then she left.

Jess looked around the small room. It was cozy enough; the great big, antique four-poster bed took up most of it, and the trunk at the bottom of the bed stuffed with all her things took up what little space remained. There was a mirror to one side with a little shelf beneath it for cosmetics, obviously. The decour was that deep Windsor blue that seemed to be the Ravenclaw color and there was a flying eagle motif repeated everywhere the decorator could put it and still remain in good taste.

The weight of exhaustion and loneliness was suddenly too much for Jess to bare and she cried quietly as she got into her jammies, clutched Seemore, her stuffed bear, and climbed into bed.

Not even the intriguing _Hogwarts: A History_ could cheer her up.

* * *

"Miss Lalonde," Professor McGonagal approached the table. "Follow me to your room, please."

"Yes, Professor." Steph got to her feet. "See you later, you two." She patted Sarah on the back and stuck her tongue out at Donia as she stepped away from the table.

"Right. Keep up, please."

"Yes, Professor."

Steph followed the witch to the teachers' table and climbed on to the dais after her. Lifting the curtain at the back of the pavilion-like structure over the teachers' heads, revealed a doorway leading to a wide, well kept, brightly lit corridor that smelt of some sort of berry incense.

"Here," said McGonagal suddenly. Steph almost ran into her. They'd arrived sooner than she had expected, her room being on the third door along the corridor on the right hand side.

"Thank you, Professor."

"You are welcome," McGonagal nodded curtly. "I am the door right in front of yours if you have any concerns. But I shall not be in there until midnight."

"Where will you be?" asked Steph before she could stop herself. That had sounded a little more desperate than she would have liked.

"Making my rounds, Miss Lalonde, if you must know. Any other questions?"

"No, Miss. Sorry, Miss-Professor."

"Right. Good night, then."

Steph watched as the woman walked back up the corridor and disappeared into the Great Hall, again.

Well, she thought. I guess I'm going to bed…

Voices.

She'd heard voices, whispering furtively, coming from somewhere close by. Where? Steph looked at her door, making sure to remember that it was the one with a thin crack in the bottom left hand corner. Then, looking around once to make sure that she wouldn't be surprised at her snooping, she set off towards the sound, which was, consequently, further down the corridor, deeper into the teacher's quarters.

Closer and closer, she could make out the two voices clearly now…Oops!

She drew quickly back around the bend in the corridor, her heart hammering at how close she'd come to walking right into the conversation.

Well, that was dumb, Stephanie! Charging right around the corner like that…

She took a careful peak around the corner again and saw that it was Snape and Dumbledore who were talking quietly, heads bent close.

"…I do not think I am the right choice for that task, Headmaster!" Snape was whispering, fury evident in his voice.

"I cannot think of anyone I trust more to do it, Severus."

"No, you don't understand, sir. I do not think that I could maintain the charade of being on good terms with Lucius Malfoy under the circumstances. Look!"

There was a silence. Stephanie cursed silently. She wanted to see too.

No, she wouldn't risk it and take a look. If she was caught she'd be in serious trouble, and Snape was obviously not the type to take this kind of digression lightly.

"Look!" he hissed again. "This is the mark of my treachery! Of my past with Voldemort! I have tried everything to be rid of it but it has not gone…"

"Which is why I think you would be ideal for this errand, Severus."

"The Death Eaters would never believe it. That's what I'm trying to tell you, Headmaster. This mark means nothing anymore, though it burns and burns me…"

"Severus, I hold you in complete confidence. I appreciate that this mark is a reminder of your past, nothing more, but you and your Dark Mark are needed in the service of the Order, right now"

There was another silence.

Steph held her breath.

Then, Dumbledore began speaking again. "Think on it, Severus. I will not force you to do anything. Simply think on it. Can you promise me that?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

"Very good. You may go do your rounds, now."

"Good night, sir," Snape replied, his heels clicking on the stone floor.

For a moment Steph panicked. Any second, he'd surely come around the corner and the game would be up for her!

As the sound of his heels grew distant, though, she realized that he'd headed the other way, down the corridor. She was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when Dumbledore said, "Miss Lalonde, would you please come around the corner?"

_Bugger._

She stepped around the bend in the corridor and found the old Professor standing there, waiting for her, his expression serious, his lavender robes a beautiful splash of color in the warmly lit corridor.

"What have you heard?" he asked.

"Um…Snape is a Death Eater?"

"Professor Snape," he raised an eyebrow. "…used to be a Death Eater. He has since then changed his ways. In fact," Dumbledore looked suddenly thoughtful, "he never really was a Death Eater. It was a bad decision made at the darkest time in his life and he quickly regretted it and worked towards correcting his decision. Do you understand, Miss Lalonde?"

"Professor Snape is not a Baddy?"

"No, he is not."

"He's a Goody…"

"Yes, Miss Lalonde," replied Dumbledore, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards at her choice of words. "Which brings us to the point of this little…discussion." He paused to make sure he'd gotten her full attention.

Steph swallowed nervously.

"Everyone deserves a second chance," said Dumbledore. "This is Professor Snape's. Please do not destroy it by repeating what you heard here, tonight."

"Oh no, sir." She shook her head from side to side. "I won't tell anyone."

_Except Sarah._

_And Jess._

_And Donia and Katie, of course._

"Thank you, Miss Lalonde." Dumbledore smiled at her. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a box of ice mice waiting for me in my office."

"Good night, Professor Dumbledore," she said as he walked past her.

"Good night, Miss Lalonde."

So! Snape was an ex-Death Eater!

She could just hear what the others would say tomorrow, when she told them. She could hear Donia now, "I knew it! I knew it! He's Satan's Spawn! I knew it!" Then of course Sarah would agree, Jess would shrug indifferently and Katie would declare that the best defense was a good offence and before you knew it, Snape would find an IRA fertilizer bomb in his undies…

Well, maybe Steph would keep this piece of information to herself.

After all, it sounded like Dumbledore was sending him to infiltrate the Death Eaters…and if that was true, then Steph would die of guilt if she were the cause of harm coming to anyone because she'd leaked information.

She wanted to trust her friends, but honestly…Out of the five of them, only Jess and herself could keep their mouths firmly shut about something.

It depended on how Katie was feeling about the piece of disclosed information. Sometimes she got notions of "The-People-Deserve-To-Know!" in her head, and then there was no stopping her.

Sarah tended to mention things by mistake.

Donia actually considered it fun to throw her enemies' secrets to the wind, for all who cared to know.

Hmmm…right. She was keeping this to herself, then.

Well, she thought as she unlocked the door to her room and walked in. Snape has a dark past. Ooh! How exciting…but sad, too. How terrible, actually… She sat at the vanity and picked up a silver hairbrush, preparing for bed.

So he was actually a human being with a heart and vulnerable ego beneath all the hissing and spitting.

She wondered what could have driven him to join Voldemort's followers as she brushed her scarlet curls in front of the round little mirror.

"Why, you're a pretty one," said the mirror, startling her.

* * *

Sarah and Donia were the last two left sitting at Gryffindor Table.

"Aren't you going to bed, Donia?"

"Um…no. I think I'll stay up for a bit."

"You're afraid, aren't you?" said Sarah suddenly. "You know, one of us could have shared with you, without embarrassment. Now you're going to look like an idiot in front of the whole school when you move out of that room…"

"Move out?" Donia sneered. "Who the hell said I was moving out, Sarah? I'm not scared. You're under estimating me, as usual. But who can blame you? After all, you're not one for difficult challenges, are you now, pet? Not one for achieving things…"

"Oi!" Sarah snapped. "Put the claws away! I'm just calling it like I see it. It was a stupid move to pick the house that's going to be out for your blood, and by the time you realize it, you stubborn cow, it's going to be too late to go anywhere. I sure as hell won't offer to share my room with you…"

"Well, lucky for me we both have less selfish friends, don't we, Sarah. Besides, I wouldn't share a room with you if I had to sleep in the same bed as Malfoy himself!"

"Er…excuse me?" came a small voice from behind them.

They both looked at the girl, who'd evidently been standing there for a while, now.

"Oh God," Donia's eyes closed with the extent of her horror. "You heard me say 'Me', 'Bed' and 'Malfoy' in the same sentence, didn't you?"

"Um, yeah…but your meaning was clear!" Hannah Abbot tried to comfort her.

"It doesn't matter," muttered Donia. "The mental image has scarred me…I'm going to need therapy…"

"Um, what?" asked Hannah, looking confused.

"Nevermind," interjected Sarah, suddenly. "Can we help you?"

"Yeah." Hannah attempted another half-hearted smile. "Do you want to go to your room, now? I mean, I could wait a little bit longer for you do be done your…um, talking —"

"No, no," Sarah got to her feet. "Let's go. I'm ready."

She stretched her arms and back, then looked down at Donia, who still had her head on the table, cheek squished against the grainy wood, looking tired and pouty.

Sarah bent over and gave her friend a kiss on the head. "Sweet dreams, git. Good luck."

"I won't need luck!" ranted Donia tragically, pumping a fist into the air. "I'll be just fine!"

"Yeah, whatever." Sarah waved as she and Hannah left the Great Hall, heading towards the East wing of the castle, where the Hufflepuff quarters were.

"So, how's London, this time of year?" asked Hannah awkwardly as they crossed the foyer.

"It's great…are you muggle born?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, most of us are…Hufflepuffs, that is-OW!"

Two large boys game bulleting around the corner of the staircase they'd been climbing and had collided head-on with Hannah, knocking her to the floor without so much as a second thought.

"Oh my Lord, are you alright?" Sarah bent to help her up. Then she turned to look after the two boys in outrage. "HEY!" she yelled. "Hey! You! What the HELL is your problem! Are you fucking blind-"

"Don't bother, Sarah…" murmured Hannah, batting the dust off her cloak.

"What do you mean-" began Sarah. Then she saw it.

The Slytherin insignia on both boys' robes.

"Oh I should've known…" she snarled. "Of course it's the fucking Slytherins."

She looked up at their faces and saw them looking at her with a mixture of repulsed wonder and amused arrogance.

Sarah felt helpless. She wasn't used to being viewed like a snail in a jar: oddly intriguing, yet mostly pathetic and redundant. One of the boys said something to the other and they both laughed at her. Then they tuned round and continued running to their destination.

"Do they treat everyone like that?"

"No," Hannah was inspecting a skinned elbow. "No. The Gryffindors don't take anything from them and the Ravenclaws find ways to retaliate…usually by refusing to tutor them, near exam time. So Malfoy put up a 'Respect The Ravenclaws' rule in the Slytherin common room. At least that's what I hear. Marks are important to him…"

"And what about us?" asked Sarah.

"What about who?"

"The Hufflepuffs? What do we do to retaliate?"

Hannah stopped and looked Sarah in the eye. "Nothing."

"Whaaaaaaaat?" howled Sarah angrily.

"Nothing," repeated Hannah. "We're the bottom of the barrel at this school, Sarah. I'm sorry. Someone should have told you before you picked our house…"

"B-bottom of the barrel!" Sarah was beside herself with outrage. Hannah took it the wrong way and looked crestfallen.

"I'm so sorry, but we wanted to help too! We wanted to have a muggle too! I mean, if Voldemort is out there looking for you, it's not fair if even the Slytherins get a muggle and we don't! And we have good intentions…honest, we do!"

"Hannah, why are Hufflepuffs the bottom rung at Hogwarts?" asked Sarah trying to get her head around the situation. She pinched the bridge of her nose, waving away Hannah's anxiety.

"Well, we have the highest rate of mudbloods. In fact, most of us are mudbloods. Our special traits…well, no one knows what our special trait is. We don't seem to really have one," shrugged Hannah.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the Gryffs are the brave ones, the Ravenclaws are the smart ones and the Slytherins are the ambitious ones. Those are the traits that the founders of their houses demanded that the students have, who got into those houses. But Helga Hufflepuff just shrugged and said, 'I'll take them all!' when they asked her who she wanted in her house. The others weren't too happy about it, either, but she stuck to her guns. So we have no overriding trait."

"And that's why you're considered the bottom rung?" Sarah was still incredulous.

"Well, it's kind of hard to have a team spirit when you don't know what makes you a team…" said Hannah as they got to the large painting hanging over the doorway to the Hufflepuff chambers.

Sarah would have been vastly amused by the baker's wife pulling loaves out of the oven in the painting, who asked for their password, if her mind hadn't been reeling with the information Hannah had just given her.

"The password's 'Badger cub' by the way," Hannah informed her as they climbed through the whole in the wall to the other side.

Sarah instantly fell in love with the Hufflepuff common room. It was warm and golden, hung with yellow and black Hufflepuff motifs everywhere, with a huge fireplace and many comfortable sofas and armchairs.

She also fell in love with the Hufflepuffs on sight too. Some of them were studying quietly in a corner, but many of them were sitting on the thick Persian carpet on the floor avidly watching 'East Enders', faces slick with sympathetic tears, tissues piled up around them like a sudden snowfall.

"Oi!" she yelled. "What episode is that?"

A group of obviously traumatized third year girls smiled quickly at her and parted to make room for her on the carpet in front of the TV.

"We don't know!" sobbed a sixth year. "It's the one where David discovers that that blond girl's been cheating on him with his baby brother!"

"Oh, I've seen that one!" said Sarah quickly.

Instantly, about thirty red-eyed gazes focused on her like starving orphans in front of a cake shop.

"It's not her! It's the evil, bitter brunette in a wig! The one the baby brother actually is in love with. She told the older brother that he'd see his wife with his little brother and she told the little brother that she'd wear the blond wig for kink factor! It all works out alright in the end! I promise…"

"Oh thank God!" sighed a boy who'd been sitting right next to Sarah. "Hi," he said holding out his hand. "I'm the other Hufflepuff prefect, Thomas Steadfast. You've met Hannah I suppose…"

"Yeah," said Sarah taking his hand and shaking it as she searched the crowd of gasping women for Hannah Abbot. The girl was sitting a few paces down from Sarah, her face drawn in sympathy with the sobbing woman proclaiming her innocence and honour on the Tele.

"We're not always like this, by the way," Thomas grinned at her surprised face. "It's just the stupid soaps! The girls've gotten us watching them too, now! It started off with us, the guys, making fun of the damned soaps in the background, but you get caught up, you know?"

"Yeah I know exactly what you mean!" answered Sarah.

"I think I'd die if the Slytherins or the Gryffindors ever found out that we do this every night. Me and two dozen other guys in here, that is!" he laughed.

"Oh no!" cried a second year from the front row. "Oh no, Johnny! Don't!"

"I think it's great," answered Sarah. " I think it's an endearing activity, actually."

"Yeah? I think so too." He shrugged. "It just seems like we're the only people who like us, sometimes, you know?"

"Oh yeah," nodded Sarah remembering their traumatizing train ride. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Oh, that's right. Draco Malfoy's after you too, now, isn't he? Is your friend going to be alright?"

"Donia? I don't know. I don't think she'll be alright… well, that depends on what your definition of 'alright' is to begin with. But, if Draco Malfoy thinks that she'll just lie down and take it, then he's got another thing coming. He's got another thing coming from me as it is…"

"What? Why? What did he do now?"

"Two of his lackeys shoved Hannah in the hallway…" most of the Hufflepuffs had actually forgotten all about the soap opera by now and were listening to this conversation avidly.

"Oh no! Sarah please, don't get into trouble on my account…" cried Hannah. She was still nursing her skinned elbow.

"Why not?" Sarah frowned.

"It's not worth it…"

"Not worth it? What's not worth it, exactly? You? Your elbow? The Hufflepuffs?"

There was a deep silence. The poor Hufflepuffs looked at her with embarrassment and pity on their faces.

"I don't know if Hannah's told you, but…we're the bottom of the barrel at Hogw-"

"Don't even say it, Tommy-boy," said Sarah reaching forward and grabbing the remote off a tiny first year boy sitting two people down from her. "Thanks, love." She smiled at his wild eyed, awed look and began to flick through the channels. She had the crowd so enraptured, they didn't even mind that she was switching off the soap. "Don't even say it." She went back to her conversation with Thomas. "That's a silly concept probably made up by the Slytherins themselves…We're not bottom of the barrel. In fact, we're the best of the best. Got that?"

"What makes us the best?" asked another boy, from an armchair in front of the fireplace. "We don't have a special skill or anything, unlike the other houses…"

"Yeah we do," Sarah answered firmly. "We treat people decently…I think…you do, right? I mean I haven't seen you be anything but nice…" she worriedly looked around the room, wondering how she thought she knew all this stuff from her brief five-hour assessment of the Hufflepuffs.

"Yeah, we do," answered Thomas. "But how's that a special trait? Most people see us as pushovers…"

"Well, we'll just have to fix, that, now won't we?" grinned Sarah, kicking off her shoes and leaning back, relaxing against the legs of a chair as she flicked through the channels. "And the first way to do that is to start watching some morale-lifting television! Like 'Buffy: The Vampire Slayer!' "

* * *

Donia actually fell asleep at the table and woke up at midnight exactly feeling bleary and dry-mouthed.

"Okay," she muttered to herself as she stretched and got to her feet, bending backwards to straighten the kink in her back. "Time to brave the lion's den. Sarah's right. What have I got myself into, this time?"

She looked across the great hall. No one else was in it except her.

_Oh, great_.

How the Hell was she going to get to the Slytherin rooms now?

Well, I guess I could walk around…maybe someone will be going to the bathroom or something… 

She pushed the great big wooden doors with her foot and walked out of the great hall, one hand in her pocket, and one hand ruffling her own hair, sleepily. Then, she stopped and looked around, confused. _Corridor to the right, corridor to the left and branching staircase to the front._

_Hmmm. _

This was going to be harder than she anticipated. The castle was obviously motherfucking _huge_.

Well, I'm wide-awake, now anyway. A walk won't hurt me. And the longer I take to get to the Gates of Hell, the better, right?

_Right_, she agreed with herself.

Well, she was left-handed. So left it was.

She turned down the corridor and walked at a languid pace, not going anywhere in particular.

"Ooh! Moving paintings!" she breathed and stopped instantly to inspect them.

There was one where a mother, dressed in eighteenth century garb, was trying to get the three children, who were running around and climbing all over the furniture in the picture, to sit down and go to sleep. The children squeaked in shock at seeing Donia and instantly ran to the front of the frame where they stood and pointed up at her with wide eyes.

"Hello," Donia she smiled.

"Do you mind!" cried the exasperated mother. "I'm _trying_ to put them to bed."

"Um…sorry," Donia pulled back in surprise.

"You're one of the muggles, aren't you?" said a lovely nymph from a pastoral scene, right above the painting with the three children and their stressed mother. "How are you finding Hogwarts?"

"It's certainly…er…exciting!" Donia laughed awkwardly. Well, she couldn't very well say, _I'm sorry, but I detest your bloody school_, now could she?

"Yes, that it is," replied an old cardinal, sitting in what looked to be a rather uncomfortable chair with a flagon of red wine in front of him in a deeply shadowed painting, Rambrant- style. "What house did they put _you_ in?"

"Um, Slytherin…"

There was a collective gasp of horror from the twenty paintings hung hap-hazzardly all over the wall.

_Oh damn it all to bloody hell, they can't be that terrifying that even the PAINTINGS are frightened of them!_ screamed Donia's inner voice. _I'm going to be lunchmeat, aren't I? I'm going to know what it's going to feel like being inside the ruddy sandwich, for once._

"What is Dumbledore thinking!" cried the old cardinal. "This would have never happened in my day! Then again, no muggles would have been allowed in Hogwarts in my day, either. Come to think of it, Voldemort would have been burnt at the stake long ago, in my day, too…"

"You poor thing," sighed the nymph. "They're not a pleasant lot, the Slytherins. Especially not to muggles or mixed-bloods."

"Oh, the Slytherins aren't that bad… big bullies, really…" said a painting behind Donia. It was a handsome young hunter, with a feather cap, standing with one foot on the big boar he'd just killed, leaning on his long bow, his hounds leaping around him and wagging their tails. "It would be imperative to note that no one really treats them with any kindness either…"

"Hello, Robin," sang the nymph, waving delicately and letting the vines, that had been wrapped around her body in strategic places, slip a little.

"Good evening to you, Daphne, my dear," the young hunter took off his hat and graciously bowed, showing off his well-muscled legs and beautiful green hose. "Looking exquisite, as usual, I see."

The nymph giggled sweetly and batted her eyelashes as her ankle-length, golden tresses flitted in a breeze no one else could feel.

"Daphne! Please!" cried the mother trying to cover all three of her little boys' eyes at once. The eldest of her brood, who looked about nine, was trying frantically to get a peak at the nymph. "There are _children_ here!"

"My dear girl," chimed in the cardinal. "Remember what happened the last time you let your vines slip and didn't get them rearranged in time, before the students woke up? Filch had to put you in a broom closet for weeks…"

"Excuse me," interrupted Donia. "Does anyone know how to get _to_ the Slytherin common room?"

"No, sorry, love," answered Daphne the nymph bending down to pull her discarded vines back up in handfuls. "None of us ever really want to be hung near the Slytherin common room."

"Yes," said the hunter, Robin's, voice from behind again. "They slash paintings, sometimes."

"Oh no…does that kill you?" asked Donia.

"No, but then we don't have a frame to go back to until the painting is fixed. We have to go share a frame with someone else." Robin shrugged.

"I wouldn't mind sharing a frame with _you_, Robin," trilled the nymph coyly.

"_Daphne!"_ shrieked the mother in the painting bellow her's.

"Um, I'll see you later, then." Donia turned to walk away.

"Careful as you walk the halls, girl," called the Cardinal after her.

"Why?" she asked turning back to him.

"Because there are other things that walk these halls at night…"

The hairs on the back of Donia's neck stood on end. "Oh? Like what?"

"Like me, Miss Sawwan," came a sneering, furious voice from behind her.

_Ah,_ she thought. _Nice to see that my bad luck is still alive and kicking._

"Professor Snape. Hello."

"_Why_, may I ask, are you wandering the halls _this_ late?" he spat.

"No one bothered to show me how to get to the common room," she spat back.

"Five points for insolent tone of voice. Follow me to the common room."

"You'd take points off your own house?"

"In this case, Miss Sawwan… yes."

"Fine by me." She laughed bitterly. "It's not like I'm really part of the Slytherins or anything, is it?"

"Indeed, Miss Sawwan, though I would not incur the wrath of the _real_ Slytherins any more than you already have. You will, after all, be sleeping near them." He smiled. At least, Donia supposed that it was intended to be a smile. It was really more a baring of teeth.

"Do you know something I should know, Professor Snape?"

"Many people know something you should know, by now, Miss Sawwan. It is a shame that you do not seem to be the perceptive type."

"Hey at least I shower…" she muttered.

He wheeled around, his eyes blazing. "Would you care to repeat that, Miss Sawwan?"

"Nope."

His eyes narrowed venomously. "If you know what's good for you, you will refrain from anymore of your base commentary."

" 'Kay."

They stalked quickly, in silence, down the corridors and then climbed down a winding stairway, down, down, _deep_ down into the bowels of the castle.

_The dungeons_, Donia shuddered. _They sleep in the dungeons._

_Pfffft! Of course they do! They probably sacrifice babies on weekends, too…_

_I miss my mum…_

Persistent drip-dripping could be heard along this corridor, an innocent water drop coldly reminding Donia subliminally of slowly advancing footsteps in the dark. She swallowed and walked a little faster, sticking close to Snape. Finally, they stopped at the end of the corridor, which was more of a tunnel.

There was a single, solitary painting here, hanging over the entrance. A black moss had grown all over the face of the black clad…_person_…sitting in the picture.

An eerie, wet breathing sound came from the painting.

Donia swallowed loudly, making Snape smile again.

The painting took in a deep, rattling breath and gurgled, "_Paaaassssswoooord_."

"Scorpions," said Snape in a clear, loud voice.

_Such a pleasant lot_.

The painting swung aside and hung there. A green light poured out of the silent interior of the common room.

"Well?" Snape gestured impatiently. "Aren't you going in?"

Donia almost said 'no.'

Then she took a deep breath and wordlessly stepped through the hole. The painting swung back over the entrance behind her just as she heard Snape murmur, "Enjoy."

_Bastard_.

She stood there looking around the vacant common room, taking in the details and the shadowed corners. The stone walls this far down in the castle were black and shiny as if worn by centuries of dark, silent water long before humans had dried it, warmed it up and furnished it comfortably to be a common room.

Unlike any of the other common rooms, the Slytherins, or their decorator, hadn't bothered to put wallpaper up. Instead, the place was set up just like a knight's quarters in the twelfth century might have been, with cloth banners and hangings, all emerald green with a sliver snake twining on them, strategically draped or hung around the walls.

Donia arched her eyebrow at this.

There were the high-backed, deep armchairs like the other houses had in scarlet, periwinkle or mustard, except that these were emerald and laced with silver embroidery, again.

All in all, the common room would have been quite to Donia's liking had the fire place been not blazing with a _green_ fire that cast a…well, _eccentric _glow to the room and making it feel unimaginably morbid.

Oh, and of course there was the fact that it was _completely empty_, for some reason.

Donia didn't like completely empty places. Her theory on _those_ usually was: 'they're empty for a reason…and I'd rather not find out why.'

She took a hesitant step forward.

A giggle sounded from right behind her.

She whipped around, but there was no one there. Then, a giggle sound to her left side, degenerating into full out, quiet laughter.

"Oh this is _sooooooooo_ classy," Donia whispered to herself.

She turned back the right way again and took a few more steps forward towards a corridor branching off with a little green sign with 'girls' written on it hanging near its entrance.

Suddenly, to her utmost horror and panic, something buffeted her in the shoulder with such force, that she was almost knocked off her feet. But then, another invisible force rammed into her other shoulder, and something bumped into her from behind, and finally, something that felt like a giant, invisible towel rapped all around her, binding her tight. A moment later, someone she couldn't see had yanked at it so hard that she went spinning off her feet, crashing to the floor heavily.

Her forehead bounced off the flagstones with a loud 'thud' and for a moment, Donia could do nothing but lye there, face down, seeing angry, angry stars.

Giggling and suppressed laughter came from all around her making her seethe with silent hatred.

"Very funny, you lot," she snarled. "I didn't expect anything else from you, though. After all, none of you _could_ face me _without_ magic, could you now?"

"Why would we even _want _to do that?" said a girl from somewhere to Donia's right.

"You wouldn't." Donia spat, blood hitting the flagstones from a cut on her fast swelling lip. "You wouldn't last a second, you _cowards_."

For some reason, maybe because of the honesty in her voice, that hit home.

"Yeah," she snapped at the silence. "Thought so."

With that, she began to wander down the girl's corridor, wondering whether there was any way she'd be able to tell which room was her own.

* * *

You'd think that being able to get up at whatever hour of the day one wants would make one's morning considerably better, but in this case, it didn't.

None of them had gotten much sleep for various reasons, and the feeling of complete and utter shock to be waking up somewhere, not remembering how you got there for the first few bleary moments of consciousness, served to bring the heavy weight of the girls' situation crashing down into leaded stomachs and already aching skulls.

Jess had gotten up at noon and rolled around in her bed for while, just to ensure that it was late enough in the day for every single one of the Ravenclaws to have gone to some form of class or another. She'd gotten up and wandered around the school aimlessly, passing rooms filled with noisy students trying out one new spell or another, before going down to the breakfast hall.

Katie, Sarah and Steph were already sitting there, chewing distractedly on rock hard toast, with congealed, cold friend eggs on their plates.

"Morning," Jess sat down slowly. She felt old and rusty at the joints.

"Mmrrrfmmnn…" replied the other three thoughtfully.

Jess stared at them.

"What's that with you, Jess?" asked Sarah suddenly noticing the huge bound book Jess had been hauling beneath her arm.

"Oh, this? It's _Hogwarts: A History_. I thought it'd make an interesting read."

"We can read their books?" Steph sounded surprised.

"Well, yes. They're in English, aren't they?" answered Jess.

"They are? They're not in odd runes or anything…?"

"Well, not _this_ one." Jess opened it and put it on the table.

The other three poured over the book with interest.

"It's a good read," added Jess. "You'd never guess the social intricacies of this society or the historical background of this castle and the impact or implications it's had on the Wizarding community…it's pretty remarkable…"

"She's doing it again," Sarah whined staring at Jess.

"Speaking in tongues? Yes, yes she is." Steph nodded.

"Where's Donia?" Katie said suddenly.

There was a silence as the others suddenly straightened up from their bent positions and looked around the hall as if hoping that their friend had been there all along, if unnoticed.

"She's not here..." Jess sounded surprised.

"No shit, Sherlock," Sarah muttered again. " I knew it was _too_ quiet."

Steph poked at her eggs. "I wonder if she's alright."

The doors to the great Hall opened with a deafening boom and swung on their hinges erratically as if trying to rip themselves off the wall and flee the on-coming destruction.

"Speak of the devil," whispered Sarah.

In came Donia, walking briskly and with absolute dignity, her nose in the air, her eyelids lowered calmly despite the luminous rage glowing behind them.

"Oh my God…"groaned Katie.

"Morning," said Donia shortly, approaching the table.

"Mumblemumble…" replied her friends parting before her as she came and sat at the table.

"Erm…Donia…" began Steph bravely, "are you wearing anything underneath that sheet?"

Donia looked down at herself and blinked twice as if realizing for the first time that she was wrapped in a white bed sheet, emblazoned with the Slytherin motif and nothing else. One of its corners slid precariously off her left shoulder.

"No." One of her bare feet, darkened with the dust off the castle hallways, tapped distractedly against Jess' leg.

"Are you hurt?" Jess' voice was filled with quiet sympathy.

"My lip's sore from my rather unappealing introduction with the flagstones on the common room floor, last night. Other than that, I'm fine."

"May I ask…" began Sarah.

"Tell you as soon as I get my clothes back." Answered Donia. "Did anyone, by any fluke of nature, happen to ask what class Malfoy had at noon?"

"The Gryffindors were talking about transfiguration with the Slytherins today." Katie bit her lip worriedly. "Do you want us to get you some clothes?"

"What? Why? Who's side are you on?" snapped Donia, frowning savagely.

"Well, excuse _me_ for offering to _clothe _you!" shrieked Katie, finally losing it.

"Girls! Girls!" yelled Stephanie. "Please! Let's calm down." She turned to Donia. "I think we're just a bit confused as to what your motives might be in wandering around the school in nothing but a bed sheet, Donia."

"It's none of your business whether I want to wander about nearly naked…"

"Fine! Alright!" Sarah rolled her eyes. "Come one ladies. We're sure she's alright, now, so let's get going to the library and do our homework like we said we would?"

"Is that where I'll find you later?" asked Donia.

"Later? Where are you going now?" Jess was looking more and more alarmed by the second.

Donia stared at her as if she were mad. "To get my clothes back, Jess. Where the hell _would_ I be going?"

"Don't you have to be clothed to get your clothes back?" asked Katie.

Donia said nothing in return to this. She just sat there and blinked at her friends, her face as devoid of emotion as the Bloody Baron's had been.

"Okay." Steph turned around and physically turned Jess around with her. "We'll be in the library."

"No, I think I want to see this." Sarah grinned all of a sudden. "I'll join you guys later, alright."

"Yeah, whatever," yelled Steph over her shoulder as she frog marched Katie and Jess out of the great hall.

"So," Sarah leaned against the table as Donia leaned forward and grabbed a piece of stale toast off Katie's plate. "Want to go look for Transfiguration?"

* * *

Draco was _not_ having a good day.

He hadn't gone to bed at all the previous night, but stayed up late in the library studying furiously for McGonagal's Transfiguration quiz. Then, at five a.m. in the morning, only three hours before he'd have to get up again, he'd gone back to the common room and discovered that a bunch of his lackeys were still up, drinking _his_ vodka and laughing about how they'd taunted the muggle all night.

He'd been furious with them, of course. How dare they defy his orders and stay up so heinously late and _not_ be studying? Especially for something so stupidly irrelevant, like taunting that nasty muggle. How base and absolutely tasteless of them all.

Muggle-taunting was done in one's spare time _only_, between important classes or during unimportant ones, like the retarded giant's Care of Magical Creatures class.

Draco caught himself nodding off and physically shook himself awake again, running his fingers through his hair tiredly. He hadn't even bothered to gel it, today. He could bet a galleon he looked unacceptably terrible.

His priorities had changed since his first few years at Hogwarts, though. He needed to do his father proud; he needed to beat Hermione Granger's average and take the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin and…and…

He had an entire list hung up on his bedroom wall, but his sleep-deprived brain was functioning sporadically again and he could hardly remember those first two, let alone the rest of it.

"Mr. Malfoy, will you _please_ pay attention! That is the third time your rat has been turned into a bread roll with a tail!"

McGongal was standing over him again. Where did the woman come from? She seemed to appear out of nowhere, like a bizarre teacher-shaped jack-in-the-box, insistent upon making his life a misery.

_Menopausing spinster…_

"Yeah, well at least I'm not having 'issues' with transfiguring my rat like Weasely is," he answered loudly. "I never thought I'd see the day a wizard would shrink away from doing something even _Potter_ can manage with relative ease, but I shouldn't be surprised, really. It's _Weasley_ after all…"

The Slytherins snickered loudly, behind him and he couldn't help but grin and look towards the Gryffindor side of the room.

Aah, yes. There they were. The Three Musketeers: Potter, who badly needed a tan or vitamins or something; Weasley with his stupid, moronic expression and his garish hair; and the Bushy Beaver, glaring at him from across the room.

"I would fear for my own academic failings if I were you Mr. Malfoy," snaped McGonagal, her lips in a thin line.

"Academic failing, Professor?" Draco smiled at her with all his cold, insincere charm and put his feet up on his desk. "Academic failings? Since when have _I_ had any academic failings? I'm just having a rather bad day, but I dare say that if I focus a little more I'll get this silly little charm right…"

"Silly little charm!" McGonagal's eyes narrowed even more.

Draco hadn't believed that was possible.

"Well, yes. It's not really that much of a challenge, is it?" His smile widened, showing his white, immaculate teeth. "I mean, when am I ever going to have to change a rat into a loaf of bread…"

He was interrupted by a loud bang and several surprised exclamation from the rest of the class when the door suddenly burst open.

McGonagal stared.

Draco Stared.

Everyone stared.

Draco knew, that somehow, his day had just gotten worse before Donia had even set foot into the class, appearing like a phantom of doom out of the billowing clouds of dust.

"Aah," he said loudly. "Grecian style. How…bold."

He could hear Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson snort behind him, but no one else made a sound.

Aah, it was those two who did this, then. Normally, it would be commendable and rewarded richly, by him But again, something was telling him that this was going to land on his head, today.

Maybe it was the fact that the muggle, who should be cowering, clothe-less, in her room, sobbing into her pillow, was, in fact, striding towards him with a dangerously wrathful look flaming in her eyes.

"You," she spat.

"Me?" he raised his eyebrows, honestly innocent.

"Yeah, you," she said. "Give me my clothes back."

"I don't have your clothes," he answered. Then he leaned over to one side, looking around the girl in the bed sheet, met McGonagal's dumbfounded gaze, and said, "I don't have her clothes Professor."

"Yes you do!" she loudly stated. "You left me a note on my clothes chest, which by the way I couldn't open yesterday to get my pajamas out, telling me that you had my clothes and that I better stay in my room 'til you see fit to give them back…"

Okay, now,_ this…_was not good. Unless he'd completely lost it and gone sleep walking yesterday, he was pretty sure he hadn't written any such note, or stolen any clothing. He looked up at her for a moment, his tongue moistening his lips, thinking what he could say in return.

Nothing. He could say nothing to this.

The entire class was silent.

Even McGonagal seemed to be awaiting his reply.

He turned around in his seat and looked at Blaise and Pansy.

Both girls had a look of absolute bewildered horror on their faces.

Okay, _they_ hadn't written any note on his behalf, either.

So who had written the damned…?

He turned back in his seat, sweat sliding down his back despite the chilly weather when he saw something that he would _never_ have anticipated from anyone else but himself. Donia, who was standing right in front of his desk with her back to everyone else, was trying not to laugh.

Draco's eyes widened with enlightenment and disbelief.

"You're lying!" he yelled. But dammit! She was making him laugh! The effect of his indignation was lost completely. In fact, McGonagal was starting to look quite enraged at this point. He had lost for sure.

She'd gotten him.

The cunning, low-kicking bitch!

She'd gotten him twice in a row! Once with the stupid pie last night and now this!

"She's lying!" he cried desperately.

"Fat chance, Malfoy," Potter suddenly stood up from where he'd been sitting at the back with his Red-Headed Right Hand and his Buck-Toothed Brain.

"What's more likely? You lying or Donia willingly walking around school, in this freezing weather, buck-naked except for the stinking Slytherin sheet?"

"Tell him, Harry." Donia's voice wavered as if she were going to cry. She covered her face and sobbed, staggering to the side a little.

No one but Draco, Blaise and Pansy seemed to realize that she was strategically heading towards the two girls.

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagal got to her feet and walked quickly towards him. Draco, who'd leapt to his feet at his proclamation of Donia's falseness, sat down heavily, expelling shocked breath. "No, please rise once more. You and I will be taking a trip to the Head Master's office where you will be _severely_ admonished…"

Draco wasn't listening to McGonagal. In his disbelieving haze, his awareness had remained focused on the muggle in the bedsheet. All eyes were on him, but _he_ could see that Donia had now bent over to talk to Blaise and Pansy who were looking up at her with loathing apparent on their faces.

Without looking too distracted from the full on tirade McGonagal was having in his direction, he leaned slightly backwards to be able to catch a little of what she was saying.

"…going down, you filthy inbred cunts. This time, it's just a joke, but if you ever come into my room again I'll rip you hair out of your scalps by the roots in handfuls till you bleed to my liking…"

_Oooh_! Draco flinched. _Nasty. The girl was nasty! _He had a veritable problem on his hands, now.

And it wasn't just the fact the McGonagal would flunk him this test.

"Do you understand me Mr. Malfoy?!" raged McGonagal, a vein dancing at her temple.

"Perfectly, Professor," He replied even though he really had absolutely no idea what she'd just said.

"Good. Then you shall return Miss Sawwan's clothing to her, give her the keys to her clothing's chest and head up to Professor Dumbledore's office at once. I shall inform your Head of House of your behavior and your mode of punishment shall be agreed upon."

"Yes, Professor McGonagal." He stepped out from behind his desk.

"Professor! I don't trust him! He might try to rip my sheet off me!" Donia blinked tears off her lashed. "Can Blaise and Pansy come along? We've become such _close_ friends…"

Draco could _feel_ his coronary narrowing and his right eyelid twitch uncontrollably. For a moment the room spun.

_Rip_ the _sheet_ off _her?! _

Well, at least the rest of the class looked equally confused at the fact that she'd be making friends with Blaise and Pansy.

Not that it mattered, now.

She had the Gryffindors in her pocket.

She'd have the Slytherins in her pocket if he didn't act soon, too.

_Oh crap._

And he'd actually hoped for a quiet year, this once.

"Yes, of course," answered McGonagal without a second thought.

_Fool woman_. _Were all Gryffindors this innocent and well-meaning?_

What was he thinking? Of course they were.

"Thank you," blubbered Donia, blowing her nose on a random bed-sheet corner.

Hmm…it was funny loathing someone with all his being besides the Tingling Tri-manic Trio of Doom. Right now, he was wondering how he'd actually ever considered Potter and Weasley worthy advisories at all when in reality, Satan, in the form of this _muggle_, was just around the Karmic corner.

"Let's g-g-go please, Draco," she looked at him fearfully from beneath her lashes. "I'm s-s-so c-c-cold…"

"Aaaawww!" cried about five Gryffindor girls, their eyes watering sympathetically.

His eye was twitching again.

He walked stiffly to the front of the class, followed by Zabini and Parkinson, who would _pay_ for not following orders, then the damned muggle.

Of course, there was that tall blond one right outside the door.

"You owe me two quid," said Donia when McGonagal had closed the door after them. "The 'stuttering-with-cold-thing' worked brilliantly."

"Aw!" Sarah forked out the two pounds and tossed them into her friend's awaiting hand. "I thought for sure they wouldn't swallow _that_ one…"

"Muggle?" Draco stepped forward.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Donia, her face a masked of disdain. "Like Dumbledore's office or something?"

"You're not going to get away with all this, girl." He stated, smiling as he promised her pain. "You got a head start on me because I never imagined the filth that your kind could sink to, but believe me when I say that you will pay. You will pay dearly…"

"Keep your distance or I'll drop the sheet and scream rape," warned Donia.

"You _wouldn't_!" his eyes narrowed.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Do you _really _want to find out?" she grinned. "You'd get tossed out of school, wouldn't you? Wouldn't he, Sarah?"

"I don't know." Sarah bit her tongue. "For something like that, I dare say he would. Then you'd be free to stomp his minions into the dust, Donny." She looked meaningfully at the horrified Blaise and Pansy, who silently looked towards Draco, pleadingly.

He caught their looks and clenched his jaw, feeling the muscles bounce uncomfortably by his neck.

"Now run along like a good boy now, while Blaise and Pansy accompany Sarah and I back down to the Slytherin Common room. I dare say Dumbledore will be expecting you. What with all the magical modes of communication I'm _sure_ are in this school…"

Draco walked away.

* * *

"I need to go to the bathroom," whispered Jess.

Steph and Katie looked up from their algebra and stared at her.

"Well…go then," answered Steph.

"I'm afraid to go on my own."

Katie rolled her eyes. "Aren't we a little old for this? I used to hold your hand to the bathroom in infant school…"

"It's not that I'm afraid to _go_! It's that I don't know where they _are_."

"Oh."

Steph thought for a moment. "Well, we don't know where they are either."

"Yes, but can't one of you come with me? To look for them?"

"No."

"Argh! You two!" Jess snarled with frustration. "I swear to God you're turning into Ravenclaws."

"Eh?"

"What?"

"Nevermind," hissed Jess bouncing on the leather seats, which curved around the study tables in the library, till she got to the edge and could shimmy out. "I'll go and get hopelessly lost and wet myself and be the laughing stock of the school…not that you two care. If Sarah or Donia were here they'd not think twice about coming with me, seeing as Voldemort is after me all…"

"Oh what's he going to do, Jessica, hide in a secret chamber connected to the giant network of pipes leading to the girls' bathroom and leap out at you while you're urinating?" Steph intoned with sarcasm.

"No!" Jess blinked awkwardly.

"Well, then what is it?"

"I just didn't want to wander the halls alone asking for the toilet, that's all!" she snapped turning and striding out of the library.

"Hmm…" said Katie.

"What is it?" Steph snarled, trying frantically to be patient with her friends who did not seems to understand the intense amount of concentration Upper Sixth Mathematics demanded.

"Maybe I should have told her about the poltergeist and the ghosts. Oh, and the sentient armor."

Steph's jaw dropped. "Oh my goodness, Katie! Why didn't you say something!"

"I just remembered!" cried Katie. " I was going to tell everyone once we all got here, but somehow we just never all _got_ here!"

"Oh good Lord I have to go look for them!" Steph was hyperventilating.

"No! If you go we'll all be separated and hopelessly lost. They'll be fine. We just have to trust them."

Jess spent the next forty-five minutes wandering around the halls with a bladder that felt like it might pop at any moment. In fact, by the time she found a girl's bathroom (she'd been convinced that she was stuck in a vortex expressly made for her agony where all the toilets were boys') she'd begun to feel like her kidneys were screaming.

She did find a bathroom at last, though, and took her time freeing herself of the ironic agony that seemed needlessly bestowed upon all Earth's creatures.

You'd think a God as clever as the one to design intelligent life forms and the entire universe would have thought of a simpler less agonizing way of expelling the body's waste products…

Then again, this _was_ the God who'd also designed external genitalia for one of the sexes and monthly profuse bleeding from the crotch for the other.

Hmmm.

Well, anyway.

Jess stepped out of the bathroom and took in the bright sunlight coming in from the hallway's bright windows for the first time that morning.

She had no idea where she was. In her mad dash to find a bathroom, she'd forgotten to take her bearings. Well, it didn't matter anyway. She wasn't sure she wanted to go back to Katie and Steph just yet, in the mood they were in. Sheesh! She only asked them to help her find a bathroom.

A bell rang somewhere and the vibrating thunder of chairs being lazily pushed and scraped back on stone floors all over the castle reached her ears.

Classes were out. Good. She could just ask someone, preferably not a Ravenclaw and certainly not a Slytherin, where the library was.

She walked towards the first door on her right and to her utmost surprise and pleasure saw that it was the sixth year Gryffindors leaving it. Harry walked out of the class, blinking furiously through his glasses as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight outside.

"Hello, Harry."

"Oh, Hi! Hi Jess," he smiled down at her. Then a worried look came over his face. "Listen, are you alright? Are you okay? Because Donia came in and the Slytherins had taken all her clothes and…"

"I'm perfectly fine…Donia…came in…in the bedsheet?" Jess swallowed with difficulty.

"Yes," Harry shook his head. "Poor girl. She was crying and everything."

"Crying?" Jess raised an eyebrow, but Harry failed to note the sudden heavy dose of disbelief in her tone.

"Yeah, she was really upset. Can't blame her really. If Malfoy had done that to me or…or Hermione I'd pound his face in! I wanted to pound his face in as it was, I felt so sorry for her…"

"Oh please don't…" muttered Jess.

"What? Feel sorry for her?" he looked incredulous.

Jess had actually meant just exactly that, but she changed her mind quickly, seeing his shocked expression. "No, I mean pound Malfoy's face in. It's tempting I know, but you'd get into trouble and he's not worth it."

"Yeah, you're right." Harry puffed out a sigh. "It's just that…he's such a bastard, you know? Picks on people who have no way of defending themselves…"

"Then, he shouldn't have picked Donia…" murmured Jess.

Harry didn't hear her. "…and he knows it too, the bastard…"

A third voice cut in. "Hello, Harry."

He spun around, his face lighting up.

"H-hi, Cho."

Jess stayed where she was. The way he was looking at Cho somehow told her that any involvement from her wasn't welcome. _Lookit that_, she mused with a wry smile. _What incredible magic… they just made me disappear._

To her surprise, Cho had other plans. She peeked around Harry and smiled sweetly at Jess. "Hi, there, Jess. How are you?"

"I'm good." Jess smiled back. "Got lost looking for a bathroom…"

_Why_ did she say that?

"Oh dear. I should've told you where you could find them, so sorry." Cho bit her lip guiltily.

"It's alright. Found one just in time. Met Harry on the way out, actually…"

_Why'd _she say that _too?!_

"Oh…" Cho was awkward. "Good. Good…Um, so Harry, how was Transfiguration with the Slytherins?"

"Despicable as usual." He blushed, looking at his feet. "How was Herbology with the Hufflepuffs?"

"Really strange, actually," Cho mused. "They were rowdier than usual, this morning…quite disruptive…"

Jess saw Ron emerge from Transfiguration. He'd been laughing with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, but his face darkened as he set eyes on Harry and Cho Chang and the two boys automatically parted with him, nervously walking away.

_Oh dear,_ Jess suppressed a snort and a grin. _The best-friend doesn't like the love-interest…_

"Well, I'll see you later, then," said Cho quickly, sensing Ron's presence.

She walked past Jess, head lowered coyly, a slight smile on her face.

"Up to her old games, I see," said Ron coming up to stand next to Harry.

"Please don't start," Harry snapped.

"I wouldn't be your friend if I didn't." Ron was looking after the Ravenclaw prefect as if she'd left a bad after-taste in his mouth. "She's playing you, Harry…"

"Oh Shut up, Ron. She made it very clear to me last year that she wasn't interested…"

"It's very different when a girl tells you she's not interested and acts on it and when a girl tells you she's not interested but keeps dangling you and Cho Chang is dangling you, Harry…Harry, come back here…Harry! Fine! Fine! Be a thick-headed idiot! I can't believe you're letting this girl take precedence over _me!_" Ron turned around and found himself face to face with Jess.

"Sorry," she said quickly dodging him to walk away.

"You heard that…" It was a statement more than a question. Ron's face had gone as bright as his hair, his voice shivered with emotion.

"Couldn't help it," winced Jess.

"No, it's alright. Can I help you?" he asked patiently, though Jess got the feeling he might explode at any moment.

"Yes, can you tell me how to get to the Library from here?"

"Yeah. Go down this hallway and turn right, you'll see the stairway. Go down three floors and turn left, heading towards the west wing. You ought to see it pretty soon…"

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"See you at dinner."

"Yeah."

* * *

By the time Jess got back to the Library Donia and Sarah were back too…the former fully bathed and clothed, this time, and an expression of feline satisfaction all over her face.

"Well, who wants to go first?" asked Steph.

"Go first where?" asked Jess sitting down next to Sarah.

"Telling us about what you've found out so far, silly," Sarah grinned at her.

"I'll start," said Katie.


	4. Bohemian Rhapsody

Hey people! Thank you for waiting! This chapter was so HARD to write! Its The-Chapter-That-Ate-My-Life! A whole 42 pagesof it! Well, anyway, I would like to thank **KATIE** the Bestest best Beta reader in the whole wide world AND I would like to dedicate this chapter to RiceBallPlum who's been pushing me to keep working at this dratted thing until it got done! Happy Belated Birthday, RiceBallPlum! So yeah! Enjoy!

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**Chapter 4. Bohemian Rhapsody**

Draco Malfoy emerged from the Headmaster's office, face pale with utter humiliation, teeth grinding to a fine dust, right eye twitching to the point of spasms.

To say that he hated _The_ _Muggle_ would have been a gross understatement. To say he detested every fibre of her being would, still, have been equal to blasphemy.

Suffice it to say that everytime her gloating, grinning face came before his inner eye, his stomach churned and squirmed as if he'd downed a bucket of acidic, electric eels.

His father had _not_ been amused when Dumbledore had contacted him. Mr. Malfoy's jaw had been set (just like Draco's, actually) and his tone had turned particularly frosty, a sure sign that Draco was not living up to familial expectations. Lucius Malfoy had the amazing ability to not say anything verbally and yet to make it all come through in his facial expression…or lack there-of.

Draco sighed and his shoulders drooped as he remembered the disgust reflected in his father's eyes. His father reserved that look for the likes of …Dumbledore, and …Potter…and Mudbloods…and people like _that_, dammit!

It was quite unbearable for Draco when _The Look_ was directed him.

Before the boy's mind's eye, Lucius' twisted snarl was suddenly replaced by _The_

_Muggle's_ serenely grinning face, making Draco squeeze his eyes shut and fight to repress

the insane desire to beat his own skull in with an old English drain pipe. One of those

'Authentic' ones from World War II, made of real lead.

_Those_ were hard to find, nowadays. You just couldn't get a well-weighted pipe anymore. A few reports of lead poisoning and they'd all been replaced by stainless steel, or aluminum and such crap. Really, what was Britain coming to?

Again, The Muggles face persistently popped into his head all of a sudden, grinning stupidly like a drunk jack-in-the-box.

_Yes, well maybe beating his own skull in really _was_ a viable option at this moment. At least _she_ couldn't follow him into unconsciousness…_

FUCK, he HATED her……AAAAAAARRRRRRRGH! How DARE she! HOW DARE SHE?

_OH! Aow! Chest pains! Chest…pains…_

"Draco!" Pansy clutched his arm to support him as he staggered into the Slytherin common room. "Draco, are you alright?"

He'd been bent over double, hyperventilating with rage, so much blood rushing to his head that his face was a less than flattering shade of neon pink. Pansy could feel warmth radiate off him.

He straightened wordlessly and stared.

All the Slytherins had come out of their rooms and were waiting anxiously for him in the common room, from the reverential first years to the nurturing eighth years.

_God_, his people _loved_ him. They looked to him to make things right. He couldn't fall apart on them like this.

Randomly, Draco (forever the preen) thought, _I have to cool down…if my face sweats, I'll get a pimple…and that'll never do…_

_Draco, _said his inner voice, …_ your grip on sanity…it's loose._

"The muggle must be disciplined." He said suddenly. He surprised himself by how calm and matter of fact he sounded despite being visibly close to cardiac arrest.

The Slytherins said nothing. If their General said the sky was purple with mucus green polka dots, then what of it?

"All the muggles…must be disciplined. They've humiliated my father and Lord Voldemort. They've brought dishonor onto the house of Salazar Slytherin. But of course, their worst crime…" he grinned, feeling like himself again. "…is that they're alive."

Pansy and Blaise were the first to smile hesitantly. Then, slowly, the Slytherins began to look at one another for reassurance and smile to themselves slowly.

"We shall have our revenge, Slytherins." He cried. Yes, he certainly felt better already. He was _Draco Malfoy_. He stated his occupation as 'School Bastard' on his business cards! This _girl_ was good, he'd admit that, but she wasn't _brilliant._ Draco, on the other hand, was _brilliant_. He was _positive_ that he could make an example out of her in no time…

"How?" asked Crabbe.

Silence, their smiles fading. Draco thought hard, but he drew a blank.

"Don't pressure me!" he yelled. "Blaise! Is my bath running? My bath better be running!"

* * *

Ron had a break between classes, so he went looking for Hermione. He found her up in the Gryffindor common room, her nose buried in a book as usual. She was curled up comfortably on one of the house recliners and was smiling softly as she went about her business, increasing the size and prowess of her already considerably daunting brain.

Ron often worried about Hermione's brain. He worried that it would soon discard her body as unworthy and move on to bigger, better things.

"Hi," he sighed sinking down onto the recliner and laying down so his head was in her lap.

"Hello, Ron." She said, absently ruffling his hair.

Then she froze, frowned, and lowered her book next to Ron's head. She looked around the common room once, then again in the opposite direction, then pulled herself forward from her comfortable sitting position to look underneath the recliner.

"Hey!" Ron wasn't too happy about being dislodged from his comfy pillow. "What are you on about?"

"I was just looking for your other half." She said.

"My other…?"

"Harry. Where's Harry, Ron? You two usually come in pairs, you know." The sarcasm in her tone was coming in loud and clear.

"Yeah, well, we come in singles, nowadays." He snarled, settling his head back on to her lap.

When there was no instant smartass comeback, he looked up at her, only to see a troubled, sympathetic look on her face.

"Had a tiff, did you?"

"Don't say, 'Had-a-tiff' with that _tragic_ look on your face! Makes us sound like we're…_together_….or something…" Ron shuddered at the thought.

Hermione had to muster every ounce of self-control not to laugh hysterically at him.

Really, Ron could be such a child about some things. Well, he _was_ a healthy heterosexual seventeen year old male of the human species. He was bound to feel a bit…well…_odd_ while competing for the affections of his best friend against a _girl_!

"This is about Cho Chang again, isn't it?" asked Hermione suddenly.

"Are we _that_ transparent?"

"No, you're not!" she laughed. "You're my _friends_. I know you really well, that's all!" She fondly ruffled his hair again. Then she paused, staring into the fireplace. "You know," she began. "I never _really_ liked Cho…from the very beginning. I thought she was trouble."

"Really?" Ron sat up and turned to face her in amazement. "Then why didn't you say something? You gave him advice on how to get her…"

"Yes, I know, I know but…I mean, he _likes_ her _so_ much, Ron. He's liked her for _years_. And," Hermione looked away from him, smiling sadly. "She's a _very_ pretty girl. I'm not even remotely appealing. No one would've listened to me. No one _ever_ listens to the bookworm. She'd play the victim and I'd get accused of …_bitterness_ or something."

"That's complete bullshit, Hermione." Ron whispered gently, reaching out to hold her hand. "I thought you were beautiful, when we went out. I always thought you were lovely. I still do. We didn't break up because I thought you weren't worth it or something stupid like that! It was SPEW, and school and just…our differences…"

"Yes, I know! It was a complete personality clash!" she cried remembering. She returned his grip on her hand. "We fought like cats and dogs, do you remember?"

"'Course I do! It was a disaster. I hated how you got caught up in all your work and stuff…"

"And I hated how you weren't as interested in what I just loved to do…"

They fell silent, filled with a slow regret.

"Guess we just make better friends, you know?" he sighed.

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"No, there certainly isn't."

Again, another silence.

"Do you think Harry's going to talk to me anytime soon?" Ron rubbed his eyes wearily. Hermione looked at him worriedly. He looked stressed.

"Of course he will. You're his _best_ friend."

"Good, coz I just don't want him to get hurt, you know? He's my best mate, and all…"

"I know."

"He's been through a lot. I just think he deserves better."

"He does, Ron. He really does. I understand."

"I just think he deserves a better girlfriend, you know? Better than Cho Chang. Someone who'll really take care of him and not just distract him and make him look like an idiot, you know. The guy's HARRY POTTER…he can't go mooning after a skirt like a spring lamb..."

"Oh God, Ron, your allegories leave a lot to be desired."

"Sorry."

They stopped talking again.

Then suddenly, Hermione said, "Ron…do _you_ want a girlfriend?"

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Sarah frowned. "The paintings move?"

"The armour is sentient?" Jess's eyes were wide.

"The castle's haunted…" Steph shivered.

"You played Exploding Snap all night with the Gryffindors?" Donia raged.

"Yes, yes, yes and yes."

"How come Katie gets all the fun?" Sarah scowled.

She didn't get an answer, though, because just at that precise moment, a book came flying past them, its pages flapping like wings, towards the opposite end of the library towards a table of six or seven Ravenclaws huddled together like an American Football team. 

The girls leaned forward to follow its journey for a moment, their eyes wide in complete disbelief. Then, they collectively blinked, shook their heads in surrender and sat back in their seats again.

"Okay, so what else did you find out?" asked Steph impatiently.

The next two and a half hours were spent with Katie telling the entire life's story of Harry James Potter from the point of view of Hermione Granger with commentary and lots of 'ooooohs' and 'aaaaaaahs' from her enwrapped audience.

When finally, she sat back breathless with effort _and _arguing _and _repeating many points with her curious friends, there was a long, long lull in the conversation while each girl conferred alone with her thoughts.

"You know what gets to me the most?" Donia broke the silence. The others looked at her expectantly. "Through all those years, with Harry almost dying every year since he'd come to school, and his friends being in danger, and what-not… Why hasn't anyone thought to break Voldemort's wand before now?"

Jess giggled hysterically all of a sudden and quickly clamped her hands over her mouth , startling her friends, who stared at her worriedly.

"What?" asked Steph.

"Well, technically, I wasn't _thinking_ either when I broke his wand." Jess replied.

Sarah snorted. Then, Katie began to shake as Steph and Donia began to giggle under their breath. A moment later they were all roaring with laughter uncontrollably, clutching their cramping middles and rocking back and forth, falling against one another, tears pouring down their faces.

Steph thumped the table hard, trying to regain control and Katie had actually rolled out of their booth seat.

"Well done, Jess!" wept Sarah. "You picked… the most… rih-rih-_ridiculous_ course of action to deal with the situation!"

"And it worked!" Jess screamed. "If there was any real logic to the world, I would be dead right now!"

"I'd hate to be the man robbing _your_ bank, Jessica!" roared Donia. "He'd aim to shoot, and you'd stick your finger into the barrel!"

They howled with laughter again, realizing full well that what they were actually talking about wasn't very funny at all. But for some strange reason, at the moment, their close brush with death seemed…well, hysterical.

"_Ladies!"_

They gasped and looked up, trying to frantically stop their laughter. "Shhhshhh! Shhh!" hissed Steph and Jess in a panic, clamping their hands over the sobbing Sarah's mouth.

Madame Pince, the librarian, loomed over them like an emaciated crow from hell, pushing back her pince-nez impatiently, the mole on her chin with the gray hairs sprouting out of it quivering malevolently like it might explode.

"_WHAT…_ do you _THINK…_ you are _doing!" _she hissed. "Do you have any idea how many train of thoughts, how many concentrating minds, you might have interrupted with your little…show of indecency?"

"No, Miss." Said Donia looking very sorry and ashamed. Katie couldn't help herself. A snort escaped her, warranting a glare from Pince and more frantic shushing from Steph and Jess who _still_ had their hands over the hysterical Sarah's mouth.

Donia kept a perfectly straight face. "Sorry, Miss."

"Yes, well, you should be!" Pince spat, clenching her fists. "In all my years working here, I have _never_ seen such disrespect to a place of peace and learning!"

"I'm sure you haven't, Miss." Donia went on. Sarah threatened to explode. Katie just bit her lip and looked away. "Very sorry. Won't happen again."

"Nevertheless, I will be forced to take points off your houses and contact your Heads of House."

_That_ sobered them up.

"Five points from each of your houses!"

"I have no house." Said Steph, her tone a little less polite than she would have normally used.

"Then you shall have detention." Pince's mole quivered again, making Katie want to duck under the table just incase the thing shot _off_ the woman's chin and pinged dangerously off the bookshelves before hitting one of them.

With that, Pince turned on her heel, and swooshed away with a rustle of old, musty smelling, flower printed skirts.

"Oi, Madame Pince!" Donia yelled after her. "Can you take ten points off _my_ house please?"

"_FIFTEEN POINTS!" _shrieked the librarian.

"SSSSHHHHHHH!" hissed the table of Ravenclaws.

"Thank you." Donia called after her.

"_Detention_!" Steph shivered with utter rage. Her face was white with anger, her eyes were burning. "Detention! I've never gotten a detention _in my life_! I'm a bloody _prefect_!"

"Easy, Steph, there's always a first time." Answered Sarah rubbing her friend's back. "Bitch is probably just jealous because you're hot and she's not."

"But that's just ruined Steph's record, Sarah." Said Jess worriedly. "Steph wants to go to Oxford. Things like this really matter to Oxford."

"It's not going to ruin her record." Answered Katie.

"How's that?" asked Donia.

"It's all politics," Answered the blond Malcolm X. "We stopped Voldemort in his tracks. Tony Blaire and what's-his-name Fudge are trying their best to protect us. When we go back to the real world as heroes who helped against Voldemort, in this thing, do you think they'll hesitate to erase one small detention from Stephanie's file?"

"Yeah," Donia leaned back in her seat. "And we can always threaten to go to the tabloids…"

Steph managed a smile as her friends sniggered.

* * *

"She's been gone for a long time." Sarah said shutting her geometry book.

"Maybe she ate a lot of cheese at dinner yesterday…" Donia shrugged.

"Stop it!"

"That's disgusting, Donia…"

"I'm just saying," Donia shrugged. "Constipation. We all get it."

"Do you think she's lost?" asked Steph worriedly.

"Jess _can't_ be lost. She's been to the bathroom at least twice already this morning." Said Katie.

"Her stomach's unsettled." Steph murmured. "She's frightened."

"We're all frightened. You don't see _me_ peeing every two hours."

_Only because there **is** a God,_ thought Sarah thankfully.

"We all react to fear differently, Donia." Katie replied.

"Yeah," the Slytherin muggle nodded. "Sorry. That was malicious."

"It's alright. Malice is _your_ way of reacting to fear." Sarah tugged on her friend's long black hair.

"Her mum cried." Said Donia suddenly.

"What?" Steph looked up from her book. Katie and Sarah blinked uncomfortably.

"Her mum cried when the limousine picked her up to take us to the train station." Donia reiterated.

"How do you know that? You were the last person the limo picked up." Steph frowned.

"She told me. On the train. You guys were talking together, you didn't hear."

They fell silent.

"My mum _wanted_ to cry. I think maybe my dad did, too." Katie said morosely. "They didn't though. I can still see them standing by our stables, waving at me. I don't think they told my brother and sister that I was going."

"I had a huge fight with my folks to be able to come," Donia shook her head. "They got really angry, started yelling. They didn't want me to go. They wanted to send me out of the country, to my uncles. But I didn't want to. I didn't want to run, though I guess being _here_ means that I _did_ run."

"It's not the same, Donia. You didn't run, though no one should blame us if we _did_ run." Katie reached forward and grabbed her friend's hand.

"Is that why you came running out of your house looking like you wanted to throttle a puppy?" Sarah asked.

"Mainly, yeah. I just…I was hoping for a nice good bye, you know? A 'We love you'? or a 'We hope you get back safe' or something like that. Instead, they start freaking out. Fuck! I'm on the verge of losing it myself! I don't need _them _to start falling apart on me."

"Yeah?" Sarah snorted. "Do you know what my parents did? Nothing. They stared at me like a bunch of open-mouthed goldfish, then my mum said something along the lines of, 'I always knew it would be Sarah who'd get into trouble. Just like your cousin Alfie'. To my Dad, she says this. My cousin Alfie's a nut-job. He's a convicted criminal. Glad to see I'm inheriting the _good_ genes."

"Sheesh! Adults! They just make things worse, don't they?" Katie folded her arms across her chest.

"What about your mum, Steph?" asked Donia.

"What about her?" Steph looked confused.

"What do you mean 'What about her?', you twit! Was she alright with you being put in the Wizard's Witness Protection Program?" Sarah frowned.

"She was a bit worried."

Steph's friends blinked at her in disbelief.

"Just a bit?" Donia's tone dripped cynicism. Steph didn't catch on.

"Yeah, just a bit."

"She wasn't shocked by this whole thing? The whole existence of wizards and witches and…well…" Katie trailed off.

"No, not really." Steph picked her pen up and began solving algebra, apparently oblivious to Katie and Sarah's confused looks and Donia's down-right suspicious one.

* * *

Jess _hadn't_ gotten lost again.

She _knew_ her friends would think that, but they were wrong.

She'd found the bathroom easily enough.

In fact, she wasn't having any trouble with her sense of direction at all, just this instant, because _destination_ was the very last thing on her mind, at the moment.

In fact, right now, she didn't really much care _where_ she was running to so long as there was still somewhere to run _to_.

In fact, the issue on the forefront of Jess's mind right now was actually the pack of laughing hyenas snapping at her heels as she raced down corridors in a blind, terrified panic.

Hyenas in Slytherin robes, that is.

Hyenas yelling horrible things that they could do to a muggle that Jess could not have ever imagined possible in her wildest dreams.

"Oi! Where're you goin', muggle?" howled Goyle in a tone he was positive was soothing. "Why don't you slow down a little? We won't do you no harm!"

Even in her haze of absolute terror, Jess couldn't help but wonder just _how_ _much_ inbreeding had occurred amongst the Wizarding aristocracy.

She rounded a corner so fast that she skidded and slipped over onto her side, palms slapping against the old stone floor painfully, knee scraping badly. She got up, nothing but pure adrenaline pushing her on, now, and hobbled as quickly as she could, then sprinted again as the aching in her kneecap became numb. Not a moment too soon, too, because a split-second later, the pack of Slytherins were rounding the same corner, yipping excitedly, like hounds after a fox.

Jess had no doubt who the _hunter_ in charge of the hounds was. Draco 'The Bastard' Malfoy, she was sure. He wasn't amongst his cronies, though. Oh no, he was too smart for that.

_Good God, Donia, what have you done to us? Oh GOD! Not another corner… _

It was another corner, though, and Jess risked slowing down a little rather than go flying again.

As it was, that was the correct thing to do, since she took the turn and promptly collided into a gang of schmoozing Ravenclaws.

"Oh good! Oh Thank God!" Jess wheezed.

The Ravenclaws clutched their books to their breasts as if she was there to steal their precious tools of education and stared at her as if she'd sprouted too heads.

"Please, you've got to help me!" gasped Jess, bending over and grabbing the stitch in her side. "The Slytherins…the Slytherins are after me….they've been chasing me for the past…well….few minutes, at any rate…"

"Persephone," came a voice from behind Jess.

The muggle felt her _heart_'s heart skip a beat. She knew that voice well enough, by now.

"Draco?" The tall brunette at the forefront of the Ravenclaws looked over Jess's considerably shorter head at the boy stepping out of the shadows.

_Ooooooh…he lurks in shadows, _thought Jess. _That makes him, **and** Jack The Ripper._

"Just handling a bit of business with the muggle, is all." Draco smiled charmingly at the Ravenclaw.

The girl, Persephone, didn't smile back. None of her housemates did either.

"Alright then." Said the Ravenclaw suddenly. "We'll walk away. So long as our names don't get mentioned if you get in trouble."

"That goes without saying, Persephone." Draco nodded graciously.

"_What!"_ Jess shrieked.

"Sorry, muggle." Persephone didn't sound very sorry. "We have an arrangement with the Slytherins. They mind their manners around us, and we mind our own businesses, around them."

Jess couldn't even come up with something smart to say. She just stood where she was and stared at the Ravenclaws' retreating backs as they calmly walked away, discussing the class they'd just had.

"Now," Draco's smile, when Jess turned back to him and his minions, was actually quite attractive. It seemed that he was one of those people in whom mood and appearance were very much connected. "Now," he said again. "You get to play with us, muggle. We've wanted so, _so_ much to throw you a welcoming party."

"Drop the act." Jess said quietly. "I didn't survive your Dark Lord to quiver at your feet."

"That's funny," hissed Draco between his bared teeth. "Because…you _are_…"

" '_Are'_ what?"

"Why…_quivering_…of course…"

* * *

"I can't _do_ this." Whined Donia doodling in a most leisurely manner in the corner of her math book.

She was ignored of course because, frankly, she was a complainer when it came to math.

She tried again. "Ste-e-eph,".

No reply.

"Stephanieeeee…."

"YES…Donia." Steph didn't even look up from her algebra textbook.

"Can you help me? You did this shit last year, didn't you? You got an 'A'…"

"I'm not doing your homework for you, Donia."

"Katie…"

"Nope." Said Katie.

"I haven't even asked you yet!"

"Nope." Said Katie again. "Do your own work."

Silence.

"You haven't asked _me_." Said Sarah.

"You're repeating. You're even worse than I am." Donia stuck her tongue out at Sarah.

"I'm repeating because I wanted a higher grade…" Sarah replied in an aloof manner.

"Yeah…higher than a 'D'!" Donia laughed, then cried out as Sarah poked her mercilessly in the ribs. "No! No! No tickling! NO TICKLING! BAD SARAH! BAAAD SAR…_Oh no…_"

The other three looked up to see what had silenced her.

There stood Jess, covered from head to foot in huge, red boils, her eyes almost swollen shut, her hands so puffy she couldn't even bend her fingers.

The bullseye on her forehead had been redrawn in more purple permanent marker.

"Jess!" breathed Donia, her hands coming up to her mouth.

"Draco Malfoy… says this is _nothing_…" she sobbed. "… in comparison to what he'll do to you." gurgled Jess. "Thanks a bunch, Donia. No really. _Thanks_ a bunch."

* * *

"RON!"

Ron heard the desperation in the screamed and spun around, looking for Hermione.

It wasn't Hermione, it was Katie, the Gryffindor muggle.

For a moment, he was taken aback by how similar she'd actually sounded to Hermione, but then he saw her expression and his head cleared.

"RON!" she screamed again, pouncing on him in a tidal wave of long, wheat-colored hair. "Oh thank God I found you! _Thank God I found you!_"

"Wow! Kate! Kate! What happened? Are you alright? What's the matter?"

"Jess! Draco Malfoy did something with his sticky thing!"

"Draco Malfoy!"

"And his sticky thing!"

"Wand? Yes?"

"He made her allergies flare! And then he made them worse with a Transformers spell!"

"A _what_ spell?"

"I dunno! An Optimus Prime spell!"

"Oh! An Optimius spell? Okay and then?"

"And then they made her all swell up and she's in a lot of pain and Donia's in a fit of rage, I can see it but it's not fair because it's not her fault, Jess didn't mean to say those things but Steph's with her holding her hand but Sarah and Donia and I were trying to look for you or Harry or Hermione or McGonagal but I found you and _what are we to doooo? What are we to doooooo!"_

"Alright!" Ron grabbed the girl by the arms firmly. "Um, alright. Kate? Katie? Can I call you Kate?"

"You…" She hiccoughed. "...already…" She hiccoughed again. "…dooooooo!" she whailed.

"Um… okay! Crying girl! Um, how do I make it stop? Make it stop!"

"I caaaaaaaan't!" she moaned. "I'm too scaaaaaared!"

"NO! It's alright! I didn't mean…oh never mind! Um, okay…MADAME POMFREY! We have to take Jess to Madame Pomfrey! Quick!"

"Wh-wh-who's that?" Katie sniveled, finally calming down.

_Just like Hermione,_ thought Ron in wonder. _Give her something to do and she'll instantly feel better._ He wondered vaguely if all women were like that.

"The school nurse. She's at the very top of the west wing. Just run down that corridor and keeping running till you hit the final flight of stairs then go straight up, do you hear? Straight up and don't stop for anything! _Especially_ Draco Malfoy. Alright?"

"Y-yes!" she cried courageously.

"Right, then, go! Go! No WAIT! Where are they?"

"Who?"

"YOUR FRIENDS, DAMMIT!"

"Oh! The Library!"

"Right…okay….Go!"

* * *

"There, now." Madame Pomfrey crooned as a much less swollen Jess downed the last few vestiges of Sweet Dreams potion. "There. You'll feel all better in the morning, poor thing."

Jess gave an exhausted sigh before turning over in bed and shutting her eyes, still gripping Sarah's hand.

"Now you four ladies had better clear out in five more minutes or you'll be dealing with me." Threatened Pomfrey gently, but firmly.

The moment that it seemed that her friend was a fast asleep, Donia gave a sigh that wasn't really a sigh, because it was a forced artificial sound not an actual indication of relaxation, and got to her feet.

The others stared at her as she carefully dusted her uniform pants and strode towards the doors of the hospital wing.

"Where are you going?" Stephanie demanded.

"You _know_ where I'm going." Answered Donia, stopping in her tracks, but not bothering to face her friends.

"To the dungeons." Murmured Katie.

Sarah said nothing but stared miserably on at the unfolding scene, still gripping Jess's curled paw.

"What possible _logic_ would lead you back to _that place?"_ Stephanie hissed.

"No logic. Just revenge." Donia replied walking towards the doors again.

"Are you mad? Do you have a death wish?" raged Stephanie.

"Don't talk so loudly," Donia smiled at them as she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "You'll wake Jess up."

The door closed with a boom.

* * *

Ron caught the Slytherin Muggle as she stepped out of the Hospital Wing.

"Hey, " he said approaching her instantly.

"Hey," she replied. It was a polite enough greeting, but she seemed preoccupied with something.

"How's your friend?"

"She's alright now." The muggle smiled at him. "Thanks so much for your help, Ron. You're a good person."

"Oh no, no thanks required, no thanks required." He put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. She just stood there, staring straight in front of her a haunted look in her eyes. "Um," he began.

"Yes?" she smiled at him again, coming back into the hallway. out anytime soon?"

That's when she gave him _The Look_.

Hermione sometimes gave him _The Look_.

His mum _always_ seemed to be giving him _The Look_.

Ron guessed that _The Look_ actually _was_ universal amongst women. He just wished he knew what it stood for.

Well, the muggle was looking at him funny, as if seeing him for the very first time, a smile playing on her lips as if she didn't _want_ to smile but couldn't help it, her eyes lighting up with something genuine that Ron just could _not_ for the life of him interpret.

"Yes," she finally replied. "Yes, they'll get thrown out soon, by Pomfrey…as I'm sure you know thanks to the…billions of times you've probably been in there yourself…right? From stories I've heard…?"

"Oh? Oh, yeah! Yeah."

Again, an awkward silence.

"Well, good night, then." She said.

"Wait, aren't you coming to dinner?" he asked confused. "You can sit at our table…"

"That's a very, _very_ kind offer that I will be happy to take up tomorrow, Ron. But I suspect that I won't be able to come to dinner, tonight."

* * *

It was odd, but the dark passages and eerie spiraling stairways leading down to the Slytherin dungeon room weren't so intimidating when you were seething with indignant rage.

The Slytherins were sitting around in their appointed places in the common room, reading up on Medieval forms of torture and official court transcripts about the Witch Burnings of seventeenth century England, when the banging and booming outside started.

The Muggle was coming.

And she was angry.

Draco was standing motionless in the middle of the room, hair freshly gelled back after his post-muggle-abuse bath, robes dark and immaculately pressed. He heard the various doors slamming and the thumping down the final, iron spiraling staircase, then the loud splash as the Muggle leapt into the rivulet of condensing water on the tunnel floor, leading to the common room.

Quick footsteps approached the common room.

He smiled, feeling his chest expand with the anticipation of success.

"Draco?" Malcolm Baddock raised an eyebrow at him.

Draco smiled at his classmate.

Then, lifting his arms, robes wafting in an invisible wind, Draco brought his wand around in a wide sweeping motion so that it pointed at everyone in the room at least once. Its point was glowing in a white blue light.

"Obscuro." He murmured, just as the Muggle yelled, _"Scorpions!" _on the other side of the common room entryway.

A split-second before the painting slipped away from the doorway, Draco saw a kind of blackness creep up all over his fellow Slytherins where they sat or lounged or lay about the common room. It was actually quite an unnerving thing to watch all these people, sitting comfortably, awaiting their prey one moment, then disappearing into nothingness the next as if some transmission of their image had frizzled out. Even the fire had dimmed and turned to a neon green, stunted glow, as if something had come between the flame and oxygen.

From where he stood, right in the centre of the room, Draco had a perfect view of the Muggle's facial expression when she came charging into the common room.

At first it was narrow-eyed determination, but then it turned into something like surprise, then a frowning, reluctant suspicion.

Draco smiled again to himself.

She expected us to be waiting for her…and we are… 

His Slytherins were doing very, very well. Slytherins always did well at something they enjoyed. Not a sound, not a _peep_ that would give their position away, was to be heard from any corner of the room.

The Muggle approached Draco unwittingly, quietly and slowly, looking around the room expectantly. She stood centimeters away from him so that Draco had to control his breathing just incase she felt it.

"Where the hell is every…" she began, softly.

"_**Now!"**_ shouted Draco.

The look on her face was priceless when she heard his voice coming from so close. Invisible hands grabbed her arms and hair and neck as invisible feet kicked her own from under her, and kicked the backs of her knees so that, before she even had time to react, she had her face to the floor, trussed-up like a butchering sheep. She'd screamed and shrieked curses and obscenities until someone (Draco was sure it was Blaise) had tied a pretty looking silk scarf between her teeth.

Draco lingered a moment to study his capture before removing the obscuring spell. The Muggle didn't look so confident _now_, did she?

Her cheeks were red with exertion and embarrassment, her eyes narrowed into burning green slits of complete and utter malice. Her breath sawed and hissed between her separated teeth and over the silk scarf in her mouth, making her teeth appear sharp and pointed. Someone had a handful of her hair pulled back so that her neck and shoulders were contorted painfully.

Sweat gleamed on her forehead.

The previously spotless purple, silk scarf was dotted with blood already…

"_Revilatus_!" he cried.

A cloud seemed to lift off the fireplace and suddenly the common room was filled with the warm golden glow of normal light again. The Muggle's eyes narrowed further when she saw that it almost seemed like every Slytherin available had been appointed to hold her down and sit on her.

Draco wasn't so stupid as to disbelieve her threats after all he'd seen from her. He wasn't going to risk it at any rate. This…_creature_ and her friends had after all survived an encounter with an enraged Lord Voldemort….

He advanced and crouched on his heels before the Muggle.

"Hi." He said. "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged and bobbed her head from side to side as if to say, "Oh, you know…so so…been better…etc."

Draco frowned. She was _gagged_, dammit. She couldn't _speak_! How the hell was she _still_ non-challante!

"So," he grinned wickedly with relish. "Comfortable?"

The Slytherins sniggered at this…until they all collectively spotted the great big middle finger she was giving them despite her hands being tied behind her back.

"That's it, I've had enough of you, muggle!" he spat losing all composure and climbing to his feet.

He didn't rise fast enough to miss her rolling her eyes in reply, as if to say, "_You've_ had enough! How do you think _I_ feel?"

"Eager to start, are we?" he sneered. "Get her up!"

The Slytherins complied with haste.

"Right, wands ready?" he chortled. His lackeys howled with pleasure in reply. "We're going to have a game of tennis, then. _Levitatus!_"

* * *

Katie, Sarah and Steph looked morose all through dinner and didn't eat very much.

By this time, the whole school had heard of what had befallen the Ravenclaw muggle. Several fights had actually broken out between some Gryffindors and Ravenclaws in class, concerning this. The moment Persephone Bluebird walked into the Great Hall boos went up from the Hufflepuff table, too, making Sarah smile briefly.

The Ravenclaws, as usual, were arrogantly indifferent, though, and the Slytherins…the Slytherins were down right jubilant. It was noticed too, with much murmuring and hissing that the Slytherin Muggle wasn't anywhere to be seen either. The same went for Malfoy…

All in all, there was a division between the houses of Hogwarts that had never been _this_ acute before now. The professors at the head table frowned as they chewed their food absent-mindedly. Dumbledore seemed to have skipped dinner.

Hermione looked worriedly at Katie as her new friend picked distractedly at a baby-baked potato on her plate, making it swirl in its herb sauce like an Olympic ice-skater.

She looked across the table to see that Harry too had been watching Katie with sympathy painted all over his face, and their eyes met.

She made an exasperated face at him, and he shrugged and shook his head sadly.

"Um, so…" began Ron, sitting over on Katie's other side. "Steph…um…you got detention today, right?"

"Yes," groaned Steph distractedly. "Just what we needed, really."

"We got five points taken off Gryffindor too!" Katie gurgled with depression.

"_And _Hufflepuff." Sarah scowled at her flagon of cranberry juice as if it were an effigy of Pince.

"Well, all the houses, really, though I doubt Jess and Donia care much…So sorry, you guys…" Steph sighed and ran her fingers through her scarlet hair wearily.

"Oh don't be silly!" cried Hermione laughing a bit too shrilly. "We've gotten points taken of Gryffindor millions of times. Haven't we, Harry?"

"Um, yeah. Millions of times. It's a wonder our house isn't selling hot, Gryffindor sex for points, really…" he muttered.

The muggles barely noticed the comment, but Ron and Hermione stared at him as if he'd grown three heads.

Harry, normally, wasn't one for…well…er…_sexual commentary_… He was quite the prude, normally.

In fact, at his dirtiest, Harry was virginal.

"I've never had such a miserable month in my entire life." Whispered Katie suddenly, a single silent tear sliding down her nose and into her pumpkin juice. "Oh God, I hope ... I hope Dony's okay…"

"Oh…oh dear…Kate! Please stop crying!" Ron grimaced and quickly grabbed the red and gold linen napkins provided with every meal the Gryffs had together, handing it to Katie as she sniffled quietly.

Hermione stared.

Ron was freaking out.

Although freaking out was quite a normal occurrence with Ron Weasley, freaking out over a _girl_… _crying…_ was a rather rare incident.

All in all, Hermione had come to the only possible explanation for this odd behavior from her two best friends.

Harry and Ron had been replaced by space aliens.

Yes, that was the only logical explanation.

Because an insensitive Harry and a sensitive Ron was way too far-fetched a concept to be physically possible.

"Katie," Hermione turned to the girl suddenly. "Would you like something to take your mind off things?"

"Something like what?"

"Well, like an after classes extra curricular activity or something?"

"Extra curricular? But would I be able to join any clubs without being a wizard?"

"Witch." Interjected Harry absently squewering a breaded chicken strip. "Witch for females, wizard for males."

"Yes, of course, sorry..." murmured Katie, subdued.

Ron glared at Harry. "Don't mind Harry, Kate, he's being an arse."

Katie smiled hesitantly at Ron and turned back to Hermione.

Hermione did her best to ignore all the subliminal messages she was picking up.

"So, wouldn't I need magic?" asked Katie again, when Hermione appeared to have lost her train of thought.

"You wouldn't for _this_ club…" answered Hermione.

"Oh, God, no!" said Ron suddenly, eyes widening in realization. "Hermione…"

"All you need for this club is an opinion, a sense of justice and a heart…" Hermione bulldozed on.

"_Hermione!"_ Ron shook his head warningly.

"I have those!" Katie brightened excitedly.

"Good!" Hermione beamed. "Because I want you to join S.P.E.W!"

"Nooooooo!" howled Ron.

Harry jumped and stared at him, blinking worriedly. Steph and Sarah looked mildly terrified.

"What's…S.P.E.W?" asked Katie hesitantly.

"Other than an uncontrolled bodily reaction to Malfoy's face?" muttered Sarah. Steph elbowed her to keep her quiet. It would do Katie good to join a club…

"It's the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare…" said Hermione eagerly.

Katie's face glowed with excitement. "OH!" she gasped. "Oh yeah! I remember we were talking about this yesterday! Oh I'd love to join! Sign me up! Right away!"

"No…" moaned Ron softly. "It's eaten her…the Spew-Beast has eaten her…"

"Oh, shut up, Ron." Hermione reached over and punched him in the arm. "You're not funny."

"_I_ think he's funny." Katie smiled.

"It wasn't meant to be funny!" Ron exploded. "SPEW eats your brains! It consumes your soul! Your friend's will never see you again!"

Katie laughed hysterically as Hermione punched him again. The mirth was cut short, though, when a shadow suddenly loomed over them.

"Miss Lalonde." Snape spat.

"Oh _goody_." Sarah hissed.

Steph turned in her seat and looked up at him apprehensively, wracking her brains for a reason she should be the centre of his attention.

Was her skirt too short? Sure, she'd rolled it a few times, but no one seemed to notice beneath the standard issue Hogwarts billowing robes.

Had he discovered she'd been eavesdropping on his conversation with Dumbledore yesterday? But there was no reason the Headmaster would tell and _she_ certainly hadn't…

"Your detention awaits you." He retorted with relish.

_Oh_.

"Do you know where your _friend_ Miss Sawwan is? She was meant to join us for detention tonight too." He sniggered. "I suppose I'll just have to issue two more detentions requiring her presence for the next two weeks."

Steph rolled her eyes. "Shall we go, then?" She snapped impatiently.

Snape looked slightly taken aback.

Come to think of it, the Gryffindors and her two remaining friends didn't seem to have expected this either.

"Follow me." Said Snape at last through his furrowed brows.

* * *

"Where are you going?" asked Katie as Sarah turned to walk to the east wing.

"Bed, I suppose. I don't feel like doing anything else tonight. I just want to disappear where no one can see me anymore." Sarah replied mildly.

"Oh…okay." There was a lonely lilt to Katie's voice.

"You alright?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, of course I am."

"What are you going to do? Play Exploding Snap again?" Sarah grinned encouragingly. "Talk to Hermione about Spew?"

"It's S.P.E.W., Sarah."

"I'm just pulling your leg."

"Actually, Ron and Hermione and Harry invited me to go outside with them and watch the boys practice Quidditch."

"What the hells' 'Quidditch'?"

"Don't know, exactly. Their equivalent of football, I'd imagine. Sounds exciting though. Would you like to come?"

"Um…" Sarah hesitated. "No, I think I'll miss out on this one, Kate. I really just want to go to bed and be alone."

"I understand." Katie nodded gently.

"Thanks. Love you."

"Love you too."

They hugged.

Then, they went their separate ways.

* * *

It turns out wizard's detention is just as boring as muggle detention.

The detention was in the potions classroom. Snape was sitting in his chair, feet up on his desk, reading a book with the moving picture of a very nervous young man stealing venom from a large, sleeping dragon's fang. The glimmering title flashed every few seconds, reading, "Rare Chemicals of the Wizarding World" in gold before fading into the black leather of the book's bindings again.

Though this had been interesting enough to keep Steph occupied for oh, say…about five minutes, the next thirty-five had been about as stimulating as getting a wound cauterized.

She sat at a student's desk and tried to dissuade herself from falling upon her pen like a Roman General, ending her existence with a vestige of dignity left.

Well, alright…she was really trying not to nod off and poke her eye out with the stupid pen. Right now, that was _very _difficult.

She'd tried to '_refinish_' the surface of the desk in front of her, but Snape had quelled her with a glare. Apparently a student picking nervously at the surface of your desks, and flicking wood splinters away with annoying precision, wasn't very conducive to intense concentration.

So, she decided to look around the classroom, immersing herself in the odds and ends kept on the shelves and in the glass cabinets. In one of said cabinets, there was a jar of some clear solution which appeared to resemble muggle formaldehyde, and floating in the transparent solution was a squirrel, split right in half from top to bottom. Its organs were mostly split down the centre too, except for its heart, of course, which was in the floating left half of the its body.

_Ew,_ she thought squinting at it from where she sat. _How macabre! I wonder if it suffered much…_

Steph shrieked.

Snape was startled so badly that his book went flying to the floor as he scrambled to his feet, heart hammering. He stared around wildly, _obviously_ looking for the gargantuan mountain troll that had invaded the class silently while he was reading and seemed surprised when he didn't find one.

His eyes narrowed when they landed on the muggle sitting before him.

"What…" he rattled. "…is the meaning of this!"

"The squirrel!" she moaned. "It…it moved! It _swam! It's swimming!"_

"Well, yes, Miss Lalonde, that's what squirrels do when they are immersed in liquid!" he hissed, very, _very_ annoyed that his reading had been interrupted by this stupid muggle. (Secretly, he was even more annoyed at the fact that he'd flailed like a tickled six year old girl when she'd screamed, too.)

"But it's not alive!" cried Steph.

"Of course it's alive! What would be the purpose of keeping a _dead_ squirrel in a classroom! The whole point is to show how its organs function and they _can't_ function if its dead, now, can they?" he raved.

"No…of course not…but…"

"But _what_?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Sorry."

He took a deep breath and bent over to pick up his book.

Steph meekly turned to the front of the class again and tried not to think of the squirrel, the paws on its two sides scampering independently, eyes wide and swiveling, in the cabinet behind her.

Just as the both of them were settling into the monotony of the detention again, three hard knocks sounded at the door and Professor McGonagal came swooping in, the wrinkle between her brows deeper set than usual.

"Professor, may I have a word with you?"

Snape blinked up at his colleague confused. "Can't we do this later? I'm taking the detentions for you _despite_ it being strictly your turn to carry them out this week."

"It's only fair considering that you refused to discipline your house for what they did to that poor Ravenclaw muggle." McGonagal snapped.

"I said I'd have a word with them." he sulked.

"Which is _not_ what anyone would call 'disciplining' as the rest of the faculty agreed, Severus."

"They mistook her for one of their own. They thought they were joking with a fellow Slytherin."

"Really? The girl has a massive purple bullseye on her face, Severus. Are you trying to tell me…"

"Yes, alright, Minerva, I get your point. What do you want?"

McGonagal seemed on the point of telling him exactly what she wanted when her eyes suddenly flickered towards Steph, and the words seemed to melt away from her open mouth.

Snape turned his head following her gaze and his eyes landed on the listening muggle too.

_Dammit!_ Steph cursed inwardly. _I wanted to listen!_

"Is there somewhere we can talk _privately_?" asked McGonagal.

"Yes, my ingredients cupboard. Just follow me."

He got up and opened the closed door behind his desk, which led to a tiny room, only about four feet by five, with walls lined with jars and boxes filled with things a wizard might need to make a potion.

McGonagal walked in first and Snape followed, absent-mindedly giving the door a shove to close it behind him. It swung weakly and bounced open again of its own accord, but not enough to attract Snape's attention, much to Steph's pleasure.

She leaned forward, craning her neck towards the ajar door.

"…hurry up and make up your mind, Severus."

"Easy for you to say, Minerva. You're not the one…"

"Oh shut up and listen to yourself."

"For the first time in my life I _am_! The Deatheaters don't trust me, Minerva. Are you all so anxious to rid yourselves of me?"

"Don't be ridiculous! First of all, to suggest such a thing is an insult to Dumbledore who's done everything in his power to keep you protected and _employed_. Secondly, if we wanted to get rid of you, Severus, we'd just resort to having you fired. Much simpler and less messy…"

Steph couldn't help giggling as she listened to McGonagal's sarcastic reply. The woman continued.

"Albeit, Severus, you _can_ be a bit of a …"

"Minerva!"

"Alright! Alright! Fine. But consider this: You are a _good_ teacher, with ethics that have made Dumbledore proud again and again. Despite your untempered dislike for _my_ House and your obvious bias towards your own undisciplined, poisonous, little ser…"

"_Minerva!_"

"…_despite_ all of that, you've shown immense bravery and selflessness when it comes down to the safety and well being of the children in this school. Especially Potter, Weasley and Miss Granger, regardless of your obvious hatred forall three of them. Overall, Severus, you've been nothing short of heroic. Don't fail them now…"

"Fail them! Fail _them!_ The ungrateful pains in the…"

"_Severus!"_

"When have they _ever_ appreciated the risks I have taken to save their hides? How many times have they endangered not only themselves, but the _entire_ cause against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, by their blatant disregard for rules and regulations put into place for _their_ safety?"

"They're children, Severus. Children are by nature ungrateful. It's not personal!"

Steph frowned.

_Ungrateful?_ Snape wasn't exactly a breath of fresh air either, when it came to the Gryffindors. She hadn't been there long, but she did know by now that almost half the student population at Hogwarts would rather kiss a flobberworm (whatever _that_ was) than have a lesson with Snape.

_Ungrateful indeed!_ _Children ungrateful by nature_! What nonsense. Children are _honest_ by nature and any honest child would be rightly spiteful to a teacher like Snape. In the muggle world, he'd have been reported to the school board long ago.

Steph seethed silently and leaned further over her desk to hear more.

"You are needed more than ever, Severus," McGonagal pleaded. "The non-magical girls are in grave danger…"

"Dumbledore would not have brought them here if he thought it wasn't perfectly safe."

"Safe, Snape?" McGonagal's voice was suddenly hushed with sadness. "Hogwarts _is_ the safest place for those girls. It's the safest place for Potter, too, but think of all the dangers he's had to endure anyway. The Philosopher's stone, the Chamber of Secrets, the Goblet of Fire, all dangers that were i_nside _Hogwarts to begin with. Let's not even _begin_ to talk about the dangers that snuck in like Peter Pettigrew or Quirrel. Voldemort always finds a way, Severus. It's only a matter of time before he finds a way to those girls."

There was a long silence.

Steph blinked and was surprised to find that her own cheeks were wet with tears of fear. She was even more surprised to find that she hadn't been breathing since the beginning of McGonagal's speech.

Terror clenched its fists around her intestines and twisted. Her heart thumped against her ribcage so hard she could feel her own pulse beating at the tips of her fingers.

How stupid she'd been.

How stupid they'd _all_ been.

She'd really thought they were safe, in this castle, despite the stories Katie had been telling them about Harry and his adventures. If not, then what was the point of transporting them all this way, putting them through all this bullshit, only to be somewhere still potentially unsafe!

Her and her friends had been wasting their time, distracted by petty school rivalries when in reality they should've been on the look out for any sign of the infiltrating enemy! What should she do? Talk to the others?

_No!_ No, they'd listen to her as they always did and then they'd be upset and scared…just like she was. They had the illusion of safety now. Did she have the right to burst their bubble just yet? Maybe they'd all subconsciously engrossed themselves in school politics so much to take their minds off the whole issue.

And what about _Snape_? Could she tell the girls about the actual truth of their situation _without_ disclosing her recent spurt of eavesdropping material? Of course not! She could just hear it in her head now:

Steph, "Guys, I think we should just be more careful…" 

_Her friends, "Why? What've you heard?"_

_Steph, "Oh, no reason. It's just logical, you know. Us being hunted by a psychotic, magical megalomaniac and all…"_

It would NEVER work! They'd smell a rat in an instant, which would undoubtedly send them onto eavesdropping escapades of their own in no time flat. One of them would stumble on to Snape's conspiracy plans and before anyone could say, "Naughty girls!" the entire school would know what Dumbledore had planned for his potions professor. 

_Damn it all to hell! I knew I should've banned the eavesdropping when the issue came up in Kindergarten! But it seemed like such a useful skill back then…_

"…Minerva! Please leave!" Snape suddenly yelled, making Steph jump violently.

_Oh no! They're done!_ The muggle quickly used the heels of her palms to wipe tears away from her face.

"Severus, you must! The Deatheaters would welcome you back and you know it! They need your skills to aid with the care of Voldemort's body and your father was an honorary Deatheater after all, wasn't he?"

Steph's eyes widened with surprise. Snape's _father_ was a Deatheater? An _honorary_ one? And just how _did_ one become an '_honorary'_ Deatheater? Steph guessed it didn't have much to do with hosting the most Weekend Deatheater Potlucks…

"_I am nothing like my father!"_ howled Snape. " Get out, Minerva! Dumbledore promised me time to think!"

"There is no time, Severus! You do NOT have that luxury! We know nothing about their plans and they've had plenty of time to find out about us! We can't keep messing up and depending on Potter to save our behinds, Severus! We're supposed to be protecting these children!"

"Give me time to think, damn you!"

"Arthur Weasley did not need time to think and he had _much_ more at stake…"

"Are you implying that Arthur's life is worth more than mine?"

"No, certainly not. But he wasn't just risking his own life by following Lucius and Bellatrix that night, despite him being fully aware that it might be a trap. You heard about Voldemort threatening his family."

For a moment they paused and Steph held her breath. What would he say? To her utter amazement she found herself feeling quite worried for Snape. She could only imagine the sort of pressure he was under.

_Sheesh!_ _Make one mistake in your life and people _would_ forever bring it up again and again and again…Does no one care that he might die doing this? I'm not sure I want someone dying in the name of my safety…_

"Don't say yes!" she whispered. "Come on, Snape, don't say yes!"

"Say yes, Severus. You won't sleep until you agree to do this; you know that." McGonagal said knowingly.

"I'll think about it," he finally replied with a sigh.

The muggle went limp in her seat with relief. Well, it wasn't a 'No' but it wasn't a 'Yes' either, now, was it? For now, it would have to do.

"Right, I shall leave you to it, then." McGonagal sounded disappointed.

Steph suddenly remembered what she was doing, where she was and what it must look like, her leaning so far over her desk that any precarious movement would send both her and it right over on to her face.

"Shit!" she hissed pulling herself back into a proper sitting position. She was pretty damned sure that no matter how innocent she tried to appear the teachers would sense her awareness of the situation. They had, after all, been shouting at the tops of their lungs at one another for parts of the conversation.

_Eureka!_

She'd pretend to be asleep! 

In her panic, Steph brought her head down on to the desk with so much speed, it hit the wooden surface with quite the audible, reverberating bang, just as McGonagal and Snape walked out of the Ingredients' Cupboard.

Even though her eyes were closed in feigned sleep she could hear them stop in their tracks and could just imagine the looks on their faces as they remembered that she'd been sitting there all along.

She was waiting for it, the fatal question of , _"How much did you hear?"_

Instead, she heard Snape snap, "Miss Lalonde! _Why_ are you beating your head against my desks?"

_Crap_.

She almost preferred discovery.

Steph sat up and put her hand up to the egg sized bruise forming on her temple. "I…must have dozed off. Sorry."

McGonagal and Snape stared at her as if grapevines had grown out of her ears.

"Well, you can head off to your room, now…" began Snape hesitantly.

"_No!"_ cried Steph.

Okay, _NOW_ they were looking at her as if grapevines were growing out of her ears.

"No, I…I haven't…" _Right, Stephanie you great, big wad of idiocy. How the hell are you going to explain your apparent love for detention!_ "I'm not done yet!"

Steph noted with irritation that if McGonagal raised her eyebrows much further they'd disappear into her hairline. Snape was a much more dangerous creature, though, in that _his_ eyes had narrowed into slits of sudden realization and displeasure.

_Whoops…_

At this point, Steph's inner mind was _so_ angry with her, it refused to comment on her actions at all.

"I think I agree with Miss Lalonde," Hissed Snape suddenly. "Her detention is definitely _'not done yet'_."

"Very well, you two," McGonagal rolled her eyes. "I shall take off to my bed, then. Goodnight Severus. Miss Lalonde."

Steph heard the door bang shut behind her and flinched in anticipation. Snape walked around to his desk and sat down in his chair, staring straight at her with his narrowed black eyes the entire time as if she might vanish if he looked away.

He sat there for several minutes, just studying her obviously nervous face, trying to decide whether she was guilty or not, and then decided that he'd _surprise _the truth out of her.

"I'M VOLDEMORT'S FOLLOWER!" he shouted.

"NO YOU'RE NOT! YES YOU ARE! _I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!_ _Crap! Shit! Fuck_!"

Snape said nothing as the muggle banged her head against the desk three more times. She sat up, her eyes a flame with embarrassment and anger, "You're a real … big… old… _meanie_, you know that?" she spat, pointing at his smug, grimly amused face.

"Meanie?" he said dispassionately.

"Yeah! And that's _after_ I edited myself based on your social status!"

"How much did you hear?" he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, his lips twisted with displeasure.

"What, _this_ conversation? Or the one you had with Dumbledore in the teacher's corridor yesterday?" she smiled sweetly.

It was Snape's turn to curse with abandon.

He finally calmed down enough to be able to glare at her, wordlessly snarling. She looked right back at him, a satisfied smile painted all over her face, very reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat's.

"You realize I'm going to have to cut your tongue out, now?" he said with relish.

If he was expecting fear, he didn't get it.

"You do what makes you comfortable, _Professor_," She replied coolly. "You might care to note that Professor Dumbledore trusted me to keep your first conversation a secret…"

"Dumbledore knew you were listening?" Snape blinked in surprise.

"Yes." She answered.

_Well, it was true wasn't it? Dumbledore eventually _realized_ she was listening and so, by the end of the conversation he was having with Snape he sort of technically knowingly let her listen! Right? RIGHT?_

Snape was staring off into space, confusion permeating his features.

Steph decided to surprise _him_ into talking too.

"So, can I see the mark on you arm?"

He blinked at her for a second then frowned, snapping, "No!"

"Why not? I bet everyone else's seen it."

"_No they have not_. Now, please refrain from your redundant commentary while I think the entire situation through!"

Pause.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"_Will you please shut up!"_

"You look forty…are you forty?" 

"I am not forty! Now, please be quiet!"

"Well, how old are you, then?"

"If I tell you will you be quiet?"

"Yes."

"I'm thirty six! There, now we have a pact. You have to be quiet."

"Well, I could leave…"

"No you can't leave! Not now that you know all my secrets!"

"Relax, Al Capone. I'll just be going to my bedroom. Besides, you know I won't tell anyone."

"No, I _do not_ know that…"

"Yes you do."

"You'll tell your friends and they'll tell their new friends, Potter and his obnoxious following."

"No I won't. And I resent you implying that my friends and I share some kind of communal brain!"

He snorted, "You don't? Isn't that how these things work?"

"You've obviously never had friends before." She spat.

She was instantly sorry she said that. It hit a nerve, obviously, form the twisted expression on his face.

"Get out!" he whispered with venom.

She complied with haste.

* * *

Sarah's shoulders drooped as she climbed the stairway to the Hufflepuff common room. She got to the second floor landing, where there was a huge statue of a one-eyed witch leaning on her broomstick, and was about to resume her weary climb when suddenly she heard her name being called.

"Ogle! Oi! Ogle!"

She was startled into alertness and looked around frantically for the source of the sound. All the paintings hanging from the surrounding walls were also searching around for the voice in confusion.

"You see anything?" she asked a young milkmaid, painted in what appeared to be a Renoir style.

"No." shrugged the girl with sympathy.

"Over here, Ogle! Behind the statue!" called the voice frantically.

"Yeah! We're behind the statue!" came another voice, extremely similar to the first.

"Fred? George?" Sarah tiptoed to the statue and leaned forward to peak behind it. "Where?"

"Right here!"

"I'm behind the damned statue! I can't see…wow! WOW! WaaaaaaaaH!"

The ground seemed to split beneath Sarah's feet with the quiet grumble of stone against worn stone. The statue of the One-Eyed Witch seemed almost to side-step as if allowing the muggle into a bar she was too young to enter or an ancient mystic temple of some sort.

_What? No 'Speak 'Friend' Then Enter'?_ she thought dizzily, finding herself precariously perched on the very edge of the first step at the top of a half eroded stairway, leading down…_down…down…_ into black nothingness. She flailed and rocked on the balls of her feet, arms wind-milling desperately, trying to regain her balance, but her attempt was futile.

It was moments like this one that made Sarah wish she weren't so tall.

She went careening down the stairway, quite against her own will, her torso leaning so far forward that her feet had to scramble to keep her from sliding down the stairs face first! She was lucky, though. There were only nine stairs between the top and the next level, and the twins were at the bottom to break her fall when she finally tripped over her own toes and went flying through the air.

"Ow!"

"Geroff!"

"_You_ geroff!"

"_Your_ foot's in my _spleen!_"

"Where the hell are we?" asked Sarah climbing to her feet and patting clouds and clouds of dust off her uniform pants.

"Well, technically, we aren't anywhere!" said George.

"But we _are_ on our way to somewhere." Reassured Fred.

"Yeah, this is just a passageway leading from the school to the cellars of Honeydukes…" George turned and began walking down the passageway, closely followed by his twin.

Sarah hesitated for a split-second, looking back up the way she'd come, only to see the bottom of the One-Eyed Witch statue move back into place, covering up her only other way out of this. She took a deep breath, shrugged to acknowledge her complacency in any trouble the twins might be planning, then ran to catch up with them.

"What's 'Honeydukes'?" she asked.

"You don't know what Honeydukes is?" Fred was incredulous.

"Didn't the others tell you about it while divulging Harry Potter's most intimate secrets?" George grinned.

"I think I daydreamed a lot while Katie was telling us his story," Sarah blushed. "But I got the gist of it! I swear!"

"Right," Fred grinned too, and the twins flashed each other knowing looks. "Well, anyway, Hogsmead is the closest town to Hogwarts…"

"Yeah," George chimed in. "It kinda sprung up at the beginning of the 14th century to cater to the needs of the student population…"

"And, _boy!_ Does it _cater!"_ Fred winked and elbowed Sarah meaning fully.

"In Hogsmead," George commenced. "You have Madame Rosmertta's pub,"

"The Three Broomsticks…"

"…and the Shrieking Shack…always great for a good, harmless scare…"

"Unless there's a changing werewolf in it…"

"And Zonko's Joke Shop, which provided the inspiration _and _education behind our own creation in town…"

"Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes," Fred finished. " There isn't a passageway to it yet, but we plan on having one secretly installed if we don't go belly up in two years or so…"

"To aid the store's availability to the Hogwarts' student population," explained George.

"We hope to eventually earn us a spot on Diagon Alley, and then we hope to spread to the rest of England…"

"Like a bad infection!"

"Yeah, just like that!"

"Is this how you can watch your shop _and_ come to school at the same time without anyone noticing?" Sarah ran her fingers against the wrinkled, water-worn walls of the tunnel.

"Bingo! Sarah, _you're_ a bright one!" George gave her a comradely smack on the back.

"We tell our Mum that we're allowed out by the Professors…" Fred said a little worriedly.

"It's alright, Fred," George rolled his eyes. "It's necessary for our business's survival. It's not like we miss classes or anything. We only cover the evening shifts and weekends. All we ever skip out on is a little homework time."

"That's true. The rest of the time Mum comes in to watch the store. She's doing it tonight too, I think…"

"No, it's Bill, tonight." George corrected his brother.

"Bill?" Sarah looked even more confused.

"He's our eldest brother, on holiday from his job in Egypt…" said Fred.

"Really? How curious…" Sarah looked lost in thought for a moment.

The boys stared at her. "Why's it curious?" asked Fred.

"Oh, nothing in particular. Is he coming to Hogwarts anytime soon?"

"He might." Answered George suspiciously.

"Oh, good." Answered Sarah. "If you don't mind me asking, why aren't you two watching your shop _tonight_?"

"Because we're busy doing other things." replied Fred.

"Like what?" asked Sarah.

"Like taking you to Honeydukes." Grinned George.

* * *

"Oh, _wow…" _breathed Katie. "It looks like the grounds for a medieval tournament of knights! Those towers are beautiful! With the checkered cloth draped over them, in each house color…are they antiques? Because they look highly authentic…"

Hermione stared at her, respect shining in her eyes. "They used to hang erroneous students by their ankles from those towers in the seventeenth century! It's in _Hogwarts: A History! _It was the earliest form of detention."

"What's it for? The tourney pitch, that is." Asked Katie. As she looked around her, she saw quite a few other students making their way down to the field, chatting happily between themselves, carrying the books from their last class of the day in their arms like burdensome babies.

"Quidditch. It's the Quidditch pitch." Said Hermione.

Katie gasped and turned to stare at Hermione, her mouth wide open. "_The_ Quidditch? _The_ Quidditch played on flying brooms that you told me about yesterday while telling me Harry's story?"

"Yes, _that _Quidditch." Hermione smiled.

"Oh! Oh! Oh wow! Oh _wow!_"

"Katie! It's alright!"

"No it's not alright! Flying brooms! I mean I should believe it, I've seen so much I can't believe so far, but you know it's going to be different when I _actually_ see the brooms _fly_, and I mean, is it safe? Could it possibly be safe? Who cares, Katie! Listen to yourself! Who cares this is _GREAT!_"

"Hermione! _Why_ is Katie having a minor epileptic fit?"

"Ron! Ron! I'm going to watch Quidditch!" cried Katie assailing him by the sleeve. "_What are you wearing?_"She looked confused at the sleeve she'd grabbed.

"A quidditch uniform!" piped up Hermione.

"Ooooooh! _He_ plays Quidditch! _You_ play Quidditch?" Katie looked up at him with the biggest, shiniest gray eyes Ron had ever seen.

"Yes…yes I do…Hermione!"

"What, Ron?" Hermione grinned wickedly at him.

"Am I going to watch a match?" Katie was almost over loading with excitement. She was beginning to twitch ever so slightly.

"Are you just being sadistic, Hermione? Are you _enjoying _shocking her system?"

"I'm shocking no one. She's fine." She turned to Katie. "No it's not a match. Trust me, if it were a match, the entire school would be migrating towards the stadium benches right now…"

"It's just practice. Gryffindor practice." Ron shook his head.

"Oh. Well, that's cool too! I get to see you and Harry fly!" Katie hopped up and down.

Ron leaned over to Hermione. "What's the matter with her?"

"Sarah told me to give her lots sugar to keep her happy, so I ladled about five scoops of ice cream on to her plate after you and Harry took off…" replied Hermione quietly as Katie hopped up and down distractedly in front of them. A few passing Hufflepuffs stopped their conversation mid-sentence to stare at the muggle, who was starting to resemble a human Mexican Jumping Bean.

"Right I'm heading down to the pitch, then. Harry's having a bit of a tantrum, right now…" Ron turned to leave.

"Um, why?" Hermione frowned.

"Well, my brothers didn't show up for practice and they're nowhere to be found." Ron shrugged. "So he's kind of taking it out on me…"

"He's taking it out on you because he knows he's wrong about the fight you had before involving a certain female Ravenclaw…" Hermione clenched her teeth.

"I have a feeling I should just apologize to him and end this whole stupid situation."

"Don't you dare, Ron!" Hermione snarled. "_You_ haven't done anything. If he wants to get pissy, he has to acknowledge that he's being an idiot, later."

"What are we waiting for?" asked Katie who had hopped up and down to a near by tree and was now hopping back.

"Nothing! I'm going to get my broom, now." Answered Ron, smiling at her. "See you girls later." He leaned close to Hermione for a moment and whispered, "This sugar-thing is useful…"

"I know. But she's totally going to crash, later…" answered Hermione as he grinned and took off at a jog.

"Yay! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!"

"Okay, we're going, we're going…"

Hermione and Katie managed to get a front row seat in the benches just as three Gryffindor Chasers and Harry came onto the pitch. The few Gryffindors who'd taken the time out of their evening to come and watch whooped and clapped encouragingly.

"Oooooooh dear…" murmured Hermione.

"What?" asked Katie.

"Usually they wave back and smile and stuff. Harry looks beside himself and the girls don't look much happier either."

"Is that Ginny?"

"Yeah, she's the newest member on the team. A girl called Angelina used to be their captain and lead chaser last year, but she graduated. Now, the captain's Harry."

Katie watched the Gryffindor team's faces. Yes, the tension was so pronounced the small audience could feel it in waves from where they sat. The older female chasers looked impatient and Ginny looked a little tearful. Harry was livid, his face pale with displeasure. Then suddenly, he opened his mouth and yelled.

"_Ron_! Where the hell are you?"

"I'm getting my broom, Harry, as you'd see if your knickers weren't in such a twist…" replied Ron as he ran on to the pitch.

"Oh, forgive me for doubting your attendance, considering that we have _NO BEATERS!"_ barked Harry.

"Firstly, that's not _my_ problem, Mr. Captain-Of-The-Team," Ron spat. "Secondly, so the Hell what? It's the Chasers that need practice, not the Beaters."

"Your brothers aren't taking me seriously as a captain!" fumed Harry. "And, obviously, neither are you!"

"Well, maybe if you weren't such an uptight…"

"_Ron!_" Katie Bell shouted. "Can we just _start_, for the love of God?"

Ron and Harry glared at each other one final time and mounted their broom. Hermione smiled with pleasure as they rose spiraling into the air making Katie gasp, her eyes following their slow ascent like a child watching its first toy train.

"Oh, that's lovely…" she whispered. Hermione couldn't help but put her arms around the muggle. Katie squealed excitedly and hugged her back. "Thank you for showing me this! Thank you!"

"Just wait, it gets better!" said Hermione.

"Right!" yelled Harry. "I can practice Snitch catching on my own time. For now, I'll double as a beater and it'll be up to you Chasers to try and dodge me and get the quaffle past Ron, alright?"

The quaffle was tossed up to the chasers and the bludgers were released. The girls demonstrated some pretty exciting passing and flying up and down the pitch as they tried to get the quaffle through one goal post, then the opposite one. Ron would fly alternately, depending on which goal needed guarding depending on whether the girls actually got past him or not. Harry stayed mostly around the middle of the pitch send the bludgers speeding towards them with his Beater's bat just when they thought they were safe.

All in all it was a pretty impressive practice. Katie thoroughly enjoyed herself, especially when Ron did a summersault in midair, catching the quaffle and beating away a bludger with the end of his broom at exactly the same time. She gave a whoop as the watching Gryffindors cheered and clapped and Ron winked at her and did another summersault in the air. When she laughed at him, he waved at her, grinning.

Hermione watched and felt her heart lightening considerably. She had a theory…she wasn't sure, but…

A handful of Ravenclaws walked on to the pitch. Hermione frowned. One of them was Cho Chang. The Ravenclaw stopped talking with her classmates and looked upwards. Hermione looked upwards too, frowning with foreboding.

Aaah yes. There was Harry, smiling and waving back at Cho completely oblivious to the Bludger heading for his head…

"_Harry!_" screamed Hermione jumping to her feet, but she was too late.

The Bludger and Harry's face met squarely as he was turning back to the game. It bounced away and a shower of blood exploded from Harry's nose all over his Quidditch uniform. He gave a loud gasp and clutched at his face trying to staunch the flow.

Ron was gutting himself. The chasers had allrushed to their captain's aid, but Ron was where he'd been the whole time, in front of his goal posts, laughing hysterically and pointing at Harry.

"Oh _Ron_!" Hermione stomped her foot, irritated.

Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Harry gave a cry of absolute rage and flew right at Ron, grabbing his friend by the lapels and dealing out a good couple of black eyes.

"_Harry!"_ Hermione was absolutely beside herself.

Harry and Ron were fighting in mid air. Katie Bell was trying frantically to separate them and Ginny had flown away to find Madame Hooch. Quidditch practice had been effectively stopped by a single, Ravenclaw girl.

Hermione looked towards Katie only to find the muggle looking towards the quarreling boys with a quiet, saddened and quite honestly horrified expression.

Oh great. What must she think of them now?

_Rot in Hell, Cho Chang,_ thought Hermione. But all she said was, "Come on, Katie. Let's leave them to their childishness…"

"Aren't you going to try and top them?" asked Katie astonished.

"No. If they want to be idiots, they're going to have to do it on their own, without my involvement."

* * *

"Well, Lucius, have we a spy in Hogwarts yet?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"It is not someone obviously suspicious, is it? You remember how easily Quirrel was discovered. We cannot afford to fail now as we failed then…"

"Oh, this is a most subtle infiltrator, my Lord, I promise you that. No one will notice…him."

"It is not your son, is it?"

"He is to obvious a suspect my Lord. I keep him out of Deatheater matters entirely just incase there comes a time when he is questioned. He cannot reveal what he does not know."

"A wise decision, Lucius. A _very_ wise decision…"


	5. Fracture I: Shattering

Hello again, wonderful wonderful readers and reviewers. Thanks to everyone who shared their opinions on the previous chapters. Please keep it up. I always seriously think about anything anyone has to suggest. Sometimes it's the little things that help me out plot-wise. ;) I would like to give out some serious thanks to my Beta-readers KATIE and SARAH (Yes, _that_ Katie and Sarah) and, last but not least, LIV. Thank you so much you guys. And a special shout out goes to my cheering section, especially Jyoti, who WILL be getting an e-mail from me soon! I promise!

Now, the usual rules apply. **All** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, this is a work of FICTION (mostly!) and no animals were harmed in the process of...Okay, I guess BEEF _is_ an animal, Katie...Okay, COWS were harmed...Cows! Just cows!

Oh, and there's a spoiler for Chapter 6 at the very end! ENJOY!

* * *

**Chapter 5. Fracture I: Shattering**

Breakfast started off as a quiet, depressing affair at the Gryffindor table.

Alright, it wasn't _depressing_ so much as _explosive_. But it _was _quiet. _Very_ quiet.

It was like sitting in a room slowly filling with propane. Nobody was saying anything or making any sudden moves that would cause friction and give certain _stressed_ persons any reasons to beat each other to a pulp again.

Madame Pomfrey had, of course, fixed Harry's broken nose, but refused to mend anything caused by the fight. So Ron's left eye was black, swollen shut and weepy. Harry's nose hadn't stopped bleeding, so he had pieces of cotton sticking out of his nostrils and a torn lip that kept dribbling blood down his chin. All in all, they weren't at their sexiest. Hermione was refusing to talk to either one of them, her face buried in a Magical Literature book.

Katie, Steph and a fully recovered Jess were eating quietly too. Well, they weren't technically eating because Steph was deep in thought about her detention the night before and Jess's appetite hadn't returned yet. Katie just sat where she was, a strained look on her face, sweat sliding down her brow.

Suddenly she pushed her plate away, making it hit her goblet with a loud clang, and leapt to her feet. The others jumped and looked up at her

"_That's it_!" she cried. "That's it! I'm going to go find her!"

"You can't!" Jess grabbed her friend's sleeve. "You don't even know the Slytherin password!"

"Paintings can be torn through!" cried Katie. "I'll set it on fire, if I have to, but I have to save Donia! I have to save her! Who knows what the bastards have done to her? Who knows? You saw what they did to Jess! You saw what they did!"

"Katie, sweetie, please…" Steph put her hand out comfortingly. "Let's _think_ about this a second…"

"No! No! I'm tired of thinking! They could have beaten her up! They could have turned her into a frog or a kitty cat or a puppy!"

"That may not be a _bad_ thing…" mused Jess, then she saw Katie staring at her with a sickly horror usually reserved for baby seal fur traders. "I was _kidding_. I'm just _kidding_, Katie! I'm just as worried as you are! It was a joke! Katie! Come back!"

Hermione put her hand out and grabbed Katie's arm as she passed.

"Katie, honestly, do you have a plan?"

"A plan?" asked Katie.

"You can't just walk into the Slytherin common room and demand they give your friend back. They'd laugh hysterically and then they'd use you as a croquet ball."

"We'll help you, Kate." Ron stood up and walked towards her. "We'll go see McGonagal after breakfast."

"But after breakfast it might be too late! She might be breathing her very last breath as we speak!" Katie's eyes were once again over-whelmingly large as she stared up at Ron. For a moment, he was at a complete loss as to how to reply to this. It was the 'eyes thing'. He'd realized it yesterday while playing quidditch. When she did the 'googly-eyes thing, it addled his wits.

"Alright, we'll go now." He muttered quietly.

Hermione's book hit the surface of the table so hard that all the Gryffindors and even some of the Hufflepuffs jumped violently and had minor cardiac arrests.

"_Ronald Aurther Jenkins Weasley_, you are in enough trouble as it is without going traipsing _willingly_ into Slytherin paws!" she hissed, her face red with rage.

A little further down the table Seamus and Parvati both sprayed pumpkin juice out of their nostrils and Dean looked Ginny in the eye as he asked her, "_Jenkins?"_

Hermione noticed nothing, though. She simply went on. "Need I remind you how many points you and Harry have lost us with your little display of testosterone-filled immaturity on the pitch last night?"

"She's right, Ron! You stay! I'll do this on my own!" said Katie.

"That's ridiculous!" he raved. "Have you looked in the mirror lately, Kate? You're not exactly large, now, are you?"

"I'm WIRY!" she snarled "And people underestimate my strength all the time! Like that one time, at that rally for lab mice, with that policeman I attacked…"

"Katie, _please_ sit down," pleaded Jess suddenly. "_Please_? If Donia doesn't show up during breakfast, I promise we'll go see McGonagal or Dumbledore right after, alright? Give her sometime. She might show, yet."

Katie hesitated for a moment, but sat back down again when Ron gave her a gentle nudge in the direction of her seat.

"I'm so worried…" she whispered.

"Sarah hasn't shown either." Said Steph suddenly.

"Oh!" Jess stared at her. "The Sphinx speaks! That's the first thing you've said all day."

"Not true," replied Steph. "I said 'Good morning' and 'Pass the butter' too."

"Oh, that's right. How could I have overlooked such conversation-worthy remarks?" Jess rolled her eyes.

Steph merely made a face and stuck her tongue out before going back to staring contemplatively into her eggs and bacon.

"Steph," said Jess.

Steph looked up at her friend. "Yeah?"

"_What_ are you thinking about?"

"Nothing important. I'm just…sorting…stuff… out…"

"Stuff, huh?" Jess frowned suspiciously as Steph's eyes glazed over and the older red head went back to staring off into nothingness. "Steph!"

"Huh? What? What?" Steph was startled out of her reverie again.

"How was detention, last night?" asked Jess in a kinder tone. "Was it too boring?"

"Detention?" Steph's voice was little shriller than she intended it to be. She coughed, nervously clearing her throat. "Er...no. I mean, yes. Yes, it was boring. Really boring. _Killer_ boring."

"Oh dear," Jess winced. "Better make sure we don't get anymore of those, then, eh?"

"Um, yeah…yeah. Good idea." Steph began staring at her eggs again.

"Hey Katie," Jess turned to her left, where Katie was seated. "Do you know what's wrong with Steph? I haven't been able to keep her attention all morning…"

"_I don't know! I don't know_! We're all going _odd_, in this group! I _swear_ it!"

"Wow! Katie!" Jess recoiled.

"_First_ we don't care that Donia isn't at breakfast even though we _know_ she'd never miss a meal unless something really terrible had happened and Sarah's _disappeared_ off the face of the planet after telling me she was just going to go to bed and Steph won't _talk_ to us for some strange reason…"

"Sugar! Sugar! Pass me the chocolate milk!" called Jess.

Hermione quickly reached across and hauled the huge jug of chocolate milk towards Jess, who grabbed it with both her hands and poured a huge amount of it into Katie's goblet.

Katie instantly grabbed the cup and downed the whole lot in three gulps. As soon as she'd drank it dry, the goblet came away from her lips slowly and was lowered down on to the table at a safe and gentle speed.

"Alright?" asked Ron carefully.

"Yeah, I'm good." Katie's smile was a little strained, but it was good enough, for now.

"Will you watch her while I go get myself a few pancakes?" murmured Jess to Ron.

"Sure." He replied and she got up, strolling slowly past Katie and Hermione and Seamus Finnigan to where the platter of bat-shaped pancakes were.

"Hi, Jess. How are you feeling?"

Jess looked up.

So did a multitude of Gryffindor girls, like African meercats smelling danger.

Harry was sitting on the opposite side of the table, right in front of the pancakes, looking morose and battered.

Jess saw Hermione's eyes appear from behind the top of her textbook, looking on anxiously.

Harry blinked nervously at her, his shoulders tensing up.

_He knows he's being watched, _she realized sadly. _God, what must it be like to be constantly watched like that…_

"I'm alright, thanks. I felt just as good as new, when I woke up this morning. Can't even remember what it felt like to be in so much pain, yesterday." She smiled brightly at him. "What about you? Heard you had a bit of a tussle with Ron. Everything okay?"

"No," Harry laughed mirthlessly, warranting a few worried looks from Ginny and Dean Thomas, who'd been covertly making out a few feet away. "No." he whispered.

Jess said nothing. She looked away from him, busily spearing pancakes with her fork and hauling them back to her plate where she'd feast on them at her own pace in a minute. In reality, though, she was giving Harry a moment to compose himself.

"You have…such a close knit relationship with your friends…" said Harry suddenly.

"Actually, at the moment, I'm wondering if I know them at all." Replied Jess with an arched eyebrow, much to his surprise. She sighed. "That's an exaggeration. I'm worried about them and a little angry that none of us is telling the others what's happening."

"Yeah, I… I got the gist from what Katie was saying…_screaming_… earlier. Is she going to be okay? I feel like a bastard…"

"Why? You haven't done anything…"

"Well, I've been kind of mean to her. I've been really mean to everyone, lately, but they all know that this isn't normal for me. Katie…might think I hate her or something. I really don't. In fact, I… I think Ron fancies her a little…"

"Oh? You do?" Jess blinked in surprise. She turned her head and looked up the table towards where Katie and Ron were sitting.

Yes, even at this very moment the boy was gently pouring copious amounts of maple syrup onto Katie's tower of pancakes.

Jess turned her head down towards the rest of the Gryffindors. Was anyone else seeing this?

Yup, those two girls…what were their names…Parvati and Lavender…they were whispering and giggling…

"You know, you might be right, Harry…" Jess murmured.

"And…well, I like her if Ron likes her, you know…He's my mate, and she seems like a nice girl…"

"You don't seem to be having too much luck on the romantic end yourself, though, do you?" said Jess suddenly, getting to the point.

Harry stared at her wordlessly. For a moment she thought he was going to shout at her to go away, but he didn't.

"I'm _not_ jealous of him…" Harry muttered quietly.

"I didn't think you were a person capable of jealousy…" Jess sat down in front of him and began eating as they spoke.

"I'm _not_ jealous. I just…I wish he'd just let me be, you know? Not all of us have the luxury of being able to easily have a girl friend, you know? Cho Chang's been the only girl _brave_ enough to actually want to be anywhere _near_ me."

"That's not true," Jess said instantly. "I've only been here two days and I've already heard how the girls talk about you."

"That's different." He insisted. "They talk about me like...like they'd talk about movie stars in our world…"

"The muggle world, you mean…"

"Yeah…but…_God_, I hate that word!"

"Me too. But moving on…?"

"It's not real. They want me to take them to a dance or to walk around with them. They want to be Harry Potter's special girl friend for a day, get their picture in the Daily Prophet or something…but…they don't want to have to deal with Harry the fucked up orphan, who spent most of his childhood in a cupboard under the stairs. Or Harry who has nightmares on a constant basis and hears voices in his head." He snorted with disgust. "I hear voices in my head, Jess. That's what they said about Charles Manson in America, when he killed all those people in the sixties…"

"WOW!" Jess shook her head to clear her mind. "_Good_ muggle pop culture reference!"

"Thanks. I'm a mudblood."

"Oh that's right. Well, you know, Harry, I don't know Cho all that well, but Ron seems pretty convinced that she's doing it for the attention too…"

"No that's not true!" he snarled, bringing his fist down on the table. His goblet toppled over spilling cold milk everywhere and making Ginny and Hermione squeak with surprise. Ron and Katie gave Harry and Jess a fleeting look of worry before getting back to their breakfasts. "That's _not_ true!" Harry said again, a little quieter.

Jess took her table napkin and began to wipe up the spilt milk. Harry got up and reached for a napkin to help her, his cheeks going the fiery red of embarrassment.

"We…we almost kissed, once…in fifth year." He whispered.

"You go that far back, do you? I didn't know that."

"Yes, we do, see? She can't be leading me on for _that_ long, can she?" He smiled as if all his problems had suddenly been solved.

"No, I suppose that's not possible." Jess conceded uncomfortably.

"Ron's _wrong_! He's _wrong_ to come between Cho and I! Doesn't he want me to be _happy?" _

"Harry, he's your _best friend_! Of course he wants you to be happy…" Jess was getting more and more horrified by the direction this conversation was taking.

" It's not as easy for me to _like_ someone as it is for him! Cho just has issues…you know…the whole 'Cedric' thing…"

"I know."

"All she wants is a little patience. And who am I to deny her that if she'll have me? Ron just doesn't understand. He _can't!_ He's not _weird…_"

"You're not _weird _either, Harry!" Jess cried angrily, suddenly unable to just sit there and listen to this. "Don't say that!"

Neither one of them noticed that the double doors to the great hall had swung open, letting Draco Malfoy in. The Slytherins instantly grinned and sniggered as they watched their leader, Malfoy, the centre of all the trouble happening with the muggles right now, saunter in smoothly, hair gleaming, eyes lidded with relaxation, robes perfectly arranged. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws just kept their heads down, trying not to call attention to themselves.

Harry and Jess didn't notice, though.

He was smiling at her sadly, as if she were a kind toddler offering him candy. "Thanks, Jess. You're a nice person, but…I know what I am…" "No! I'm serious, Harry! You can't…" 

Harry never figured out just exactly what he _couldn't_ do because right at that exact moment a loud yowl of utter feline wrath and vengeance ripped through the Great Hall's air followed by Malfoy's distinctly alarmed, "_WaaaaaaAAAH!"_

There was an even louder **'Thud!'** when he hit the ground with Katie on top of him, scratching and punching and ripping at him!

"Oh my God!" cried Hermione getting to her feet in an utter panic. Jess and Steph stared at the scene enfolding before them and then looked right at one another, at a complete loss as to what to do.

"_Yooooooou son-of-a-bitch!" _screamed Katie.

"Aw! Ow! Get off me!" howled Malfoy desperately trying to fend off the claws.

"Wow!" Ron whistled. He'd leapt to his feet too as soon as Katie had sprung towards Malfoy. "Did you see_ that?_ That was _bloody brilliant_! She just pounced onto the table then _pounced_ onto the Hufflepuffs' table and then she just _leapt_ right on to Malfoy, like he was some sort of…of…I don't know! But it was _brilliant!_"

"Yeah, it was awesome!" cheered Lee Jordan. "Moves worthy of _The Matrix!_"

"O-oh…" Ginny hissed in a warning tone. The Gryffindors looked up to see Hooch, Snape, McGonagal and Hagrid rushing down from the teacher's table towards the fight.

"_You albino, bloodless little snake! No! Calling you that would be an insult to snakes! You're not worthy of being called a snake! Snakes are endangered! They fight for their survival! But YOU! You're not worthy of being called an amoeba! You're a virus! A stinking…stupid…selfish…piece of shit virus! AAArrgh!"_ screamed Katie.

"Aaaargh!" screamed Malfoy in return. "Crabbe! Goyle! Where _the Hell_ are you? Get this crazy cunt off me!" 

"Coming, Draco!" Crabbe and Goyle were lumbering around the Slytherin table to Draco's rescue.

"Don't you _DARE_ touch her!" shrieked Steph clambering on to the Hufflepuff table and towering over Draco's two henchmen like a banshee. "Come anywhere near her and I'll dent your skulls in with a goblet!"

"Aaaaaaa**hh**aaaaaa**h**aaaaaaaaaa**h**aaaaaa!" wailed Malfoy.

"Miss Dubois! Miss Dubois, _control_ yourself!" McGonagal yelled as she ran.

"_You_ nasty, dirty, cruel, arrogant, narrow-minded….There aren't enough vices for you! Where's Donny? What did you do to her? Where's my friend! I WANT DONIA BACK RIGHT NOW! _And she'd BETTER be in human form!" _Howled Katie.

She was seeing red. She could vaguely hear McGonagal yelling at her to stop. She could see the professors running towards her through her hazy vision. Some quiet voice at the back of her head told her that she would have to stop tearing a chunk off Malfoy if she didn't want them to use some sort of nasty spell on her that would probably hurt a lot and leave her groggy for a week.

But Katie couldn't stop.

It felt too good, beating the crap out of Malfoy. He'd been horrid on the train, then he'd pissed Donia off and basically forced her to start defending herself, and then he'd bullied Jess, manipulating Donia into going to the dungeons again and…

Suffice it to say that Malfoy was a pretty good scapegoat for everything crappy that had happened to Katie in the past month or so.

At the back of her mind, she could hear Madame Hooch cry, "She's in a frenzy! We're going to have to knock her out!"

"Can you blame her?" spat McGonagal. "What did Malfoy do to the muggle, Snape?"

"How the Hell should I know!" Snape spat back. "Look, can we save Malfoy's life before we quarrel over whether this gross attack on his person is warranted or not?"

"Right! Wands at the ready?" McGonagal raised her wand.

Hooch and Snape followed suit.

"Ready? A Petrificus Totalus, then?" asked Hooch.

"I think that's a bit harsh, Madame Hooch…" began Hagrid. "I could just pull'em apart, ya know…"

"Petrificus-" yelled Snape.

Katie heard all of this but she still couldn't stop thumping and scratching at Malfoy., who'd curled up into the foetal position under her.

Then, suddenly, arms wrapped themselves around her and began dragging her off Malfoy, hauling her away from him. In her haze of blood lust, Katie could vaguely see the Professors staring at her…or the person who had her by the waist…with the utmost horror and surprise on their face.

"Let me go!" shrieked Katie. "Let go of me!"

"No one is knocking _anyone_ out!" yelled the person dragging her out of the Great Hall. "Hang on! We'll be right back! Just…OW!…have…Owy!…a little…talk! I promise!"

Katie clawed at the air trying to get free, but the person with their arms around her was cleverly staying well out of her reach.

"Who…are you? Show yourself you bastard! Face me like a man you dirty Slytherin!" Katie howled.

"We're going for a bit of fresh air! No one follow us, please!" said the person behind her. "Come on, my dear. Walk it off! Walk it off!"

_Who was it? Steph and Jess were right there looking on in horror…So were Ron and Hermione…Harry was looking on with a flabbergasted expression on his face too…It had to be a Slytherin, then! A Slytherin saving Malfoy! Why was no one helping her!_

The person behind her kicked the doors to the great hall shut and finally let her go. Katie pushed herself away and turned around screaming curses.

"…GOING TO RIP YOUR HEART OUT…?….!…_oh…"_ her face crumpled from a twisted rage at having her run with Malfoy interrupted to an insane bright happiness. Then she burst into loud tears and threw her arms around her assailant's neck.

It _had _been a Slytherin…

"_Dooooonnnnnnyyyyyyyy!"_

"Hi," whispered Donia softly feeling her shoulder become saturated with fresh tears. Soft, long blond hair electro-statically clung to her face and made her own long black hair frizz up in response.

"They…they…_they coloured you!" _howled Katie.

"Yup," Donia nodded. "Same set of markers they used to renew the purple bullseye on Jess."

Katie pulled away to take a better look at her friend.

Any of Donia's skin that could be seen was covered with writing in all the colours of the rainbow: '_Bitch'_ in purple, mostly, but also '_Muggle' _and_ 'Mudblood' _in green and red on her face, as well as horrible phallic images drawn in black and yellow and brown. The most sexually degrading language in pinks and oranges and blues scribbled everywhere, as well as stupid jokes and (most humiliating of all) the culprits' signatures: Malfoy, Zabini, Ludwig, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Flint, both Baddock brothers, LeStrange, Barnett, Moores, Mountain, Doceuor, two Mcnair cousins, the Verte twins and more.

And under all the scribbles? Bruises. Large, dark, painfully fresh welts.

"What…?" murmured Katie poking the largest one on Donia's cheek with a careful finger.

"Um…that's still a bit tender…They…um…used me as a tennis ball…_before_ they wrote all over me…" Donia grinned. "It was fun. I found the whole writing all over my body thing rather sexy, actually…well, other than the smacking-into-the-furniture bit…"

Katie stared at her for a moment, completely horrified, then suddenly gave a frustrated yell and smacked Donia's arm with all her might.

"AOW!" yowled Donia recoiling. "What the fuck, Katie! I'm bruised there _too_, you know!"

"_Why are you grinning? Why are you grinning like that! You should be miserable?"_ wept Katie.

Donia's smile faded. She put her arms out and pulled Katie into another hug.

"You were worried. I'm sorry. I…I promise not to rush off and vanish like that again, alright?"

"Don't make promises you can't keep!" burbled Katie from Donia's soaked shoulder.

"Yeah, you're right," Donia shrugged.

They both giggled quietly.

"You know," said Donia after a while. "We used to disappear on one another and do stuff all the time at school. You should have realized I'd resurface. I mean, ultimately, I'm alright…"

"Are you in pain?"

"Slightly…but-"

"Then you're not alright." Snapped Katie. "And when we used to pull shit at school, we had a safety net. We knew where we stood with the people there. People liked us; they thought we were funny. Here, we have enemies everywhere, around every corner, in every classroom."

"Yeah, you're right," Donia sighed. "You're right."

* * *

"We're back!" She cried as she threw the Great Hall doors wide open again, stepping through them with Katie right behind her. They'd only been outside for a minute or two, so nothing had essentially changed from how they'd left it.

Steph had stepped _off_ the Hufflepuffs' table and was standing with Hermione, Ron and Harry at the Gryffindor table. Jess was right next to her handing her a goblet of cranberry juice to cool her down. Both girls looked exceedingly worried about their friends.

Malfoy was on his feet, though barely. He was being supported by Snape, with Crabbe and Goyle hovering near by, blood pouring down his front from the multiple scratches on his face, neck and hands. The left sleeve of his robe lay a few feet from him and the shirt sleeve beneath that was hanging limp and bloody around his grazed elbow.

"Wow, Katie!" cried Donia approaching the group of teachers and Slytherins congregated around Malfoy. Katie just walked straight to Gryffindor table without looking at anyone. "You really took a chunk off him, didn't you!"

"Please shut up, Donia." Whispered Katie between clenched teeth. _Was her friend trying to get her into more trouble than she'd already gotten herself into?_

"No, no! Don't be modest!" Donia waved a hand at her as she peered closely at Malfoy, inches from his face. Draco clenched his teeth. He wanted to smack her so badly, but that would go against his 'Wounded Victim' plee, right now, wouldn't it?

Knowing her, this…_muggle_…was going to milk it for all it was worth, too.

"Modest!" snapped Steph.

"Yeah! This is good workmanship…really good workmanship…You've greatly improved his appearance. Better than my pie, actually." Said Donia spinning on her heal and walking towards Gryffindor table.

Nervous laughter broke out hesitantly against people's will. Draco and Snape fumed, at a loss for words. The rest of the teachers stared on completely lost as to what to do in this situation.

Dumbledore had inconveniently left the hall unnoticed.

Draco was evidently guilty of some crime; the writing all over the battered Slytherin muggle was proof enough of _that_.

_But the Gryffindor muggle had attacked him! Physically attacked him! If they didn't punish Katie, what kind of message would they be sending to the rest of the student body?_

_But Draco was a known bully. They'd been aching to have someone snap on him for years! Most of the staff thought it would be Harry…or one of the Weasleys…There was even a rumour that Hermione Granger had whacked him one in third year, but it had never been reported._

_But…_

_But…_

_But…_

Donia could almost read the thoughts passing through McGonagal's head. She'd watched so many staff members look at her the same way Minerva was looking at her right now, so many times before, at her _own_ school, thank you very much. _She_ could tell when a teacher was having a duel between their ethics and heart.

She would use this one to her advantage.

"Well, at least you know that Madame Pomfrey can make the scars vanish, Malfoy. Unlike _permanent marker…"_ she mused loudly, taking a seat at the Gryffindor table and draggin a plate forward towards her. "You'll have your pretty face back in an hour or two, fear not. Unlike me. I have to wait a week. Jess'll have to wait three, I hear; several _layers _of marker apparently take longer to fade."

Draco was grinding his teeth so hard that his jaw was pulsating against the strain. His eye was twitching manicly.

No one moved or said anything in the great Hall. They all watched Donia and watched Draco watch Donia.

"Though why any self respecting boy would want to have _your_ girly face back is beyond me, really." She muttered. Again, nervous laughter broke out and, this time, it snapped the teachers out of their shocked stupor.

"You insolent, little harpies!" Snape's shout reverberated off the wall. "I'll see to it that you're all thrown out of Hogwarts!"

"Certainly not!" cried McGonagal angrily as the Great Hall erupted into chaos.

The Ravenclaws and Slytherins cheered with venom while the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors got to their feet in utter outrage.

"Call Dumbledore!" yelled Hooch.

"Where's Albus!" cried Flitwick from the teacher's table.

"Stop this at once! Sit down, Mcnair! Sit down, I say!" McGonagal pointed her wand at the Slytherin table, particularly at Rory Mcnair, who had clambered on top of the table and was throwing goblets across the room at the Gryffindors.

For a moment, it looked like a riot was going to break out! The professors were in a complete and utter panic!

Then suddenly, above all the noise, a loud screaming, screeching, vibrating whine exploded through the hall. People cried out in pain and fear, clutching at their ears desperately and hitting the ground in confusion.

All except the muggles and Hermione Granger, that is.

"Right!" yelled Sarah as a hush fell and people turned towards _her_, the obvious source of the noise, since she was the only one in the hall with a bass guitar and a small amp.

"Finite Incantum." Murmured Hermione tapping the amp with her wand. The slight electrical buzzing it was making died instantly, and Hermione just sat down again.

"Get a grip, you lot," spat Donia towards everyone in the hall, muggle supporters or not. "No one will be kicking _anyone_ out of anywhere."

"_YOU will be kicked out…" _began Snape again.

"You kick us out today and the existence of magic will be all over the BBC tomorrow!" answered Steph taking a few steps forward. Snape glared at her, eyes slits of dark malice. "We saved your asses, you ingrates! We kicked Voldemort's arse! He's immobile, thanks to _us!_ You _owe _us!"

"We're not going anywhere," Donia drawled. "We're staying right here…"

"And we _won't_ be getting detentions for this morning either!" Jess cut in. "If you can't control the school bully then you should let us deal with him on our own terms!"

"There will be no dealing with anyone on your own term, Miss Frey." McGonagal replied with astounding calm.

There was another silence.

"Snape?"

"Yes, Minerva?"

"Can you find it in your heart to release Miss Dubois of her punishment for attacking Mr. Malfoy?"

"Certainly not!"

"It's either that, or Malfoy gets expelled for the liberties he has taken in treating our guests, Professor Snape!" snapped McGonagal angrily.

Draco suddenly looked threatened. He swallowed loudly and looked up at Snape. Snape ignored him. He glared at Katie instead, so fiercely she felt that, if looks could kill, she would have burst into flame a hundred times over by the time he spoke again.

"I suppose it's only fair to let Miss Dubois off with a warning _this_ time…." He forced himself to hiss, spittle flying from his lips.

Cheers went up from the Gryffs and the Huffs. The Slytherins and Ravens were silent, sitting in total shock.

"But Miss Lalonde gets a detention for leaping onto the Hufflepuff table and threatening Crabbe and Golye with physical harm if they helped their…classmate…" Snape barked in triumph.

"_What!_" Steph spun around to face him, eyes blazing.

"_Bite me_, Snape!" screamed Sarah giving him both middle fingers as the Hall erupted into chaos again. "_Bite me_!"

"Of all the dirty…" Donia shook her head in surrender.

"_It's only fair_," Snape's smile was as slimy as his hair. "Come one, Mr. Malfoy. I shall escort you to Madame Pomfrey's."

He left the hall with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind. McGonagal shook her head in wonder, shrugged her frustration at Madame Hooch who stood gaping after Snape, and returned to finish her cold breakfast at the teacher's table.

Everyone was going back to their breakfasts, appetites considerably ruined or increased by varying degrees of outrage.

Ron, Hermione and Harry watched, distraught, as the muggles angrily picked up their plates and moved up the Gryffindor table, putting several unoccupied seats between themselves and the rest of the students.

"Are they going to be okay?" asked Harry.

"No they're not!" Hermione's voice broke.

"Hermione…" Harry put his hand out and rubbed her back soothingly.

"Why are they being treated like this? Why! They've done nothing wrong!" she moaned.

"Cheer up Hermione…" murmured Ron.

"No! I won't cheer up! I won't let this be okay! Someone has to get upset on their behalf! Someone has to _listen_…" she stopped talking and put her face in her hands.

"That's it," said Harry softly, looking Ron in the eye for the first time since their fight. "It's up to us then. We'll have to watch them between classes."

For a moment, Harry wondered if his friend would rebut him, tell him to fuck off or apologize for his appalling behavior.

For a moment, Ron said nothing. Hermione looked up from her hands, her eyes red-rimmed and frightened.

Ron smiled slightly.

"Can we do that?" he asked. "Is it going to be enough?"

"_Oh Ron!"_ blubbered Hermione gratefully throwing her arms around his neck.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and grinned at his best friend. "It'll have to do. We can't exactly miss classes, now, can we?"

"How are we going to do this, then?" Ron looked over his shoulder at the huddled muggles.

"Well, we'll sick the twins on Sarah; they seem to be taking a liking to her. They can watch Donia too, if they like. You and Hermione can alternate with Katie and then with Steph…if she _ever_ gets out of detention." Harry rolled his eyes sympathetically.

"What about you?" Ron looked confused.

"I'll take the big one. Keep my eye on the purple bullseye…"

* * *

The muggles sat in a lonely cloud of subdued defeat, scowling at their plates as they skewered their food with aggression.

Suddenly, Steph looked up and said, "Sarah! Sarah, you're _here_!"

"Sssshhhhh! Shhhhhhhhh!" hissed Sarah. "Please! My _head_! Do you know how much will power it took not to fall on the ground and writhe with pain when I 'riffed' my guitar, just now?" she whispered, her words slightly slurred.

Donia frowned and leaned closer. "Sarah….are you_ drunk?"_

"No, I'm not drunk. I was drunk in the near past. Now, I'm just really…_REALLY…_hung over …"

The others said nothing for a moment.

Then, Katie broke the silence. "What happened after you told me you were going to bed, yesterday?"

"I was kidnapped by space pirates…"

"Sarah!"

"Ow! Okay, okay…just…just be quiet for a sec, please!" Sarah picked up her goblet of cold milk and pressed it to her throbbing forehead. "Oh God, it's mornings like these that I wish humanity didn't exist…"

She opened her eyes to see the others looking at her with lots of skepticism and absolutely no sympathy.

"Do you _know_ what it's like to be _this_ hammered?" she sputtered indignantly. "My mouth feels about as moist as the Sahara in midsummer and my brain feels… loose… it feels loose…and I think it's sliding around inside my skull, bouncing off the walls everytime I make a sudden move!" she moaned. "I feel like the Nazgul must have felt when Gandalf was riding towards them on the Pellenor Fields with his staff glowing in that unearthly bright light!"

"Isn't it scary that we actually _get_ that?" Donia murmured to Steph.

Sarah went on. "I hate all happiness and sunshine and songbirds…I _really_ hate songbirds…songbirds woke me up, today, they were making such a racket. They were probably mating. Goin' at it like Anna Nicole Smith, the filthy little buggers…"

"Sarah stop!" commanded Katie. "You're ruining all my memories of Disney's '_Snow White'_."

"Are you ever going to get to the story?" asked Donia, an evil glint in her eye. "Or should I JUST START TALKING REALLY LOUDLY IN YOUR EAR?"

"Ow! OW! Pleeeeeaassee! Stoooooop! I'll talk! I'll _talk_…" Sarah sobbed. "Alright…let me see. It's all a blur of kaleidoscopic color…"

"Kaleido…! Just _how_ much _did_ you drink last night, Sarah?' asked Steph, gritting her teeth at the Hufflepuff's irresponsibility.

"Um…Where _did _you get the booze?" asked Jess suddenly.

There was silence in which Stephanie though: _Oh no! They've asked the Million Dollar Question!_

And Katie, Donia and Jess thought: _Yes! That **is** the Million Dollar Question!_

And Sarah thought: _Well,_ _beat me with a hammer and swallow Lewis Carol's teabags…they've asked the Million Dollar Question…_

"Sarah don't you dare tell them how to get alcohol!" snarled Steph.

"If you tell us, we'll pay you!" Jess piped in.

"They're under age! Be responsible, for the love of God!" howled Steph.

"If you don't tell us, I'll set Katie on you. You saw what she did to Malfoy," grinned Donia.

"Oh thanks a lot," Katie rolled her eyes.

"You don't even drink, Donia, you coot!" exclaimed Jess.

"Hmm…you're right…Oh well," Donia shrugged. "It's funny to watch. You're all hilarious when you're sloshed."

"No!" insisted Steph. "Sarah! No! We'll never be sober again…"

"Oh joy." Muttered Sarah. "I have three shoulder demons and one really stressed shoulder angel…"

"Come on Sarah!" pleaded Katie. "Please tell us what you did last night! Please! Please! Please! _Puh-leeeeeeease!_ Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-"

"ALRIGHT!" snapped Sarah. "_The twins and I had tantric sex in Dumbledore's office!"_

Silence.

"Just kidding. Nothing half as exciting as that. We just shoplifted a bit and then went out drinking. Oh…and I convinced them to make me a share-holder of their business."

"**WHAT!"** her four friends shrieked in unison.

The Great Hall fell silent for a moment and the girls looked around, they found everyone else staring back at them.

"Shows over!" yelled Donia venomously, and people instantly went back to whatever they were doing.

"You _shoplifted!"_ Steph was beside herself.

"How the _HELL_ did you get the twins to give you a share of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes?" whispered Katie amazed.

"I gave them head repeatedly." Replied Sarah with a poker straight face.

Silence.

"Just kidding!"

Her friends sighed with relief. Steph looked a bit faint. Jess took a napkin and began fanning her.

"I just plied them with copious amounts of alcohol then threw in a sales pitch."

"In other words, you drank them under the table." Grinned Donia.

"In other words, it's _their_ fault they didn't realize I was Irish!" Sarah shrugged.

"How's that _their_ fault!" cried Katie, who was frankly quite appalled. "You _don't_ have an accent and you _don't_ have '_Hi! I'm Irish and therefore drink alcohol like a fish drinks water!'_ tattooed on your forehead!"

"Still not my fault." Sarah filled her goblet from the water jug and downed it in two gulps before repeating the process.

"So how big is your share?" asked Jess.

"Forty percent." Murmured Sarah between mouthfuls of water.

There was a silence for a moment, then her friends began to laugh hysterically. Sarah took the goblet away from her face, frowning at them curiously.

"What's so funny?' she asked.

The smiles fell off her friends' faces.

"You…you're _not_ joking?" Donia's slanting eyes were so large they looked as round as Knuts, with the mean green irises swimming about like islands surrounded by an ocean of white on each side.

"No," answered Sarah a mild look of disgust on her face, as if horrified that they'd think she would be joking about something so serious. "I'm _not_ joking. I own forty percent of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

Silence.

"That's…almost half…" Katie whispered. "You own more than _they_ do individually…"

"Um…yeah." Sarah grabbed a thin slice of bacon off Jess' plate and began nibbling at it hesitantly.

Steph had to sit down and put her head between her legs.

Jess, Katie and Donia just stood there, gaping at Sarah.

Sarah blinked back at them, utterly annoyed at how they were reacting.

"And…what…if anything…do the twins get for giving you forty percent of their business?" wonder Jess quietly.

"Um, well, they get all the formulas and plans for everything that I create for the business _and_ eighty percent of all the profits I make selling my merchandise goes into the store, as opposed to the fifty percent that they give to the store. So technically, I'm buying my share with the money I'm _going_ to make from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and they're free to make more of the stuff I bring into the business if we should part ways…"

"Sarah!" moaned Steph. "We're not here indefinitely, you know! What happens when we have to leave?"

"Then, they buy the share back from me," Answered Sarah. "Hopefully, by then, and thanks to me, they'll be able to _afford_ the price I have in mind!" She giggled wickedly.

Silence.

"What…exactly…does Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes sell?" asked Donia sitting down at the table again, finally. Katie and Jess followed suite. Steph still had her head between her legs.

"It's a joke shop." Replied Sarah.

"Ooohhhhh." All four of her friends nodded their comprehension.

"That explains it," muttered Steph weakly.

"What? Explains _what_?"

"Never mind, Sarah, just answer the questions. Why do the twins need you so badly?" asked Jess.

"They want a Muggle Pranks section."

"Oooohhhhhh." Sarah's four friends nodded in unison again.

"Would you stop doing that!" She snapped. "It's creepy!"

"So you'll be experimenting all over the place then, won't you?" Katie asked this non-chalantly. They'd lived through many of Sarah's experiments before. Their old school was quite used to them, by now.

"Yeah sure. You know the procedure. Keep your heads down, watch out for trip-wires, push all doors open and _wait_ before walking through doorways, etc.?" Sarah looked them all in the eye one by one.

Except Steph, who still had her head in her own lap. "Oh this is going to be _just_… _great_…" she muttered.

"Listen, Sarah, does this mean you'll be privy to imported substances and materials otherwise prohibited from entering the school premises?" asked Donia.

"Yeah. Want me to hook you up?"

"Yeah, that would be great. I'm going to need ammo if I'm going to go up big against Malfoy…."

"Wait wait wait wait!" Steph hit her head on the breakfast table, she tried to sit up so fast. "You're gonna go up against Malfoy?"

"Of course I am. You didn't expect me to?"

"It's only natural, Steph." Interjected, Sarah. "You expect us to just let him walk all over us?"

"Okay, so Donia has an on going _feud_ with him. What the Hell is _your_ excuse?" Steph snarled back.

"I'm a Hufflepuff and the Slytherins pick on my house." Replied Sarah.

"You're not a Hufflepuff," Steph stated frankly.

"Yes I am."

"No you're not."

"Um…" began Katie nervously.

"Yes I am."

"No you're _not!_ You're a fucking _muggle_!" screamed Steph leaping to her feet.

Once again, you could hear a pin drop in the Great Hall.

This time, it was Steph who turned to the observing audience. "SOD OFF!" she roared.

Everyone turned back to their own business submissively.

The professors at the head table were getting weary of this, though.

"_Miss Lalonde_!" McGonagal sounded close to tears.

"Steph, sit down." Whispered Donia. Then, standing up and waving to the head table, she loudly said, "Sorry, Professor. We'll shut up, now."

"You had _better_, Miss Sawwan. We may not be able to kick you out of Hogwarts…" Here, McGonagal flashed a frown at Snape's empty seat. "…but I _can_ throw you out of this Great Hall."

"No need, Professor," assured Donia, sitting down. "Sorry."

The five friends sat in silence for a minute.

"Sarah…" began Steph quietly.

"I disagree." Snapped Sarah.

"With what? I haven't said anything yet!"

"With everything! With this philosophy demanding that we be separate from everyone else here!" Sarah gestured towards the rest of the Great Hall passionately. "We don't even go to their classes!"

"Actually, that's a good point. What happened to human equality?" Katie cut in.

"Um, nice thought and all, but I hate to remind you that….we're _muggles_." Replied Donia shortly. "What the _hell_ would we be doing in their classes? We have no magic."

"We can just sit there! Be part of the school society, for God's sake. Be in _class_." Said Sarah.

"That's ridiculous," Donia dismissed the argument with a wave of her hand. "And anyway, it's not up to us. We're not allowed. So there's no point arguing."

"In that case, let's talk business, what are you going to need?" asked Sarah.

"Color dyes. Lots of color dyes. Preferably water soluble and very, _very _hard to remove. Fade resistant would be super."

"I can do that. Maybe ask the twins if they have something magical that changes colour every few seconds…"

"That, Sarah, would be perfect…"

"Is anyone else greatly disturbed by these two?" wondered Jess.

Steph and Katie raised their right hands.

"Oh, and Sarah?" Donia remembered something suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"What do you want for your services?'

"Are you kidding? Asides from joining in the warfare against Malfoy?"

"Oh! Good. Coz I'm broke."

"I figured as much."

* * *

Leaving the Great Hall was a disaster.

The girls had gotten up to go get their respective books and congregate in the library, when a row of five flying pies had catapulted themselves from the Ravenclaw table and squarely landed on top of each muggle's head.

Subsequently, the culprit wasn't caught. The Ravenclaws weren't talking and no one had seen anyone waving their wands about in a suspicious way…Well, none of the Hufflepuffs or Gryffindors at any rate. The way the Slytherins were laughing hysterically seemed to indicate that they _had_ seen the culprit at work, but it was obviously fruitless asking _them_ who'd done it.

The muggles, now covered in cream and soggy pie, had gritted their teeth, wiped custard out of their eyes and walked out of the hall, closely followed by Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

'That was despicable!" Ginny shivered with anger. "I've never seen the Ravenclaws behave in such a way."

"They feel guilty," said Donia licking cream off her fingers.

"What the hell are you talking about!" snapped Sarah using her already ruined tie to wiped pie off her guitar.

"Guilty? One of them bloodlessly gave me up to Malfoy…" exclaimed Jess.

"That's exactly it," answered Donia. "They're on the defensive. They're being jerk-asses because they feel collectively guilty about what they did to you! They're trying to justify what they did by convincing themselves that _we_ are the enemy. It's self alienation."

"Self-alia-what now?" Ron blinked.

Donia continued. "Self-alienation. It means they don't like who they are right, now. They were supposed to take care of us and they wound up being on equal footing with the Slytherins, if not worse. At least the Slytherins are consistently hostile; the Ravenclaws were just cowards. I take it, before _this_, the Slytherins have been the _ultimate_ scum in this school for years?" She asked this of Harry.

"Oh yeah, you bet," he replied. "Centuries, even. But the Ravenclaws are starting to compete with them…"

"Exactly," Donia shrugged.

"So what's your point?" asked Katie.

"See that's the thing," Donia's hand went to her chin as she mused. "Do they deserve hell for being cowardly bastards? Or do they deserve sympathy because they're having major conscience issues?"

"And the answer is…?" Sarah raised her eyebrows patiently.

"_I_ don't know." Donia walked away. Her friends rolled their eyes. "Anyway, I'm going to change my clothes, and wash my hair and… generally be free of pie. Meet you in the library, muggles…"

"Donia! Don't call us that!"

The Slytherin muggle turned around and grinned, her tongue snaking out to lick a wad of pie that had been sitting close to her lips. "But that's what we _are_, ladies."

* * *

When Malcolm Baddock tried to grab her the moment she'd stepped through the portrait hole, Donia was ready for him. Pie covered as she was, she managed to jam the heel of her right hand upwards into his face, making him cry out in agony as a wet cracking sound rang through the Slytherin common room. He moaned and crumpled on to the ground as she watched him with dispassionate amusement.

"Oh, sorry. You startled me, Malcolm." She sang, briskly striding deeper into the common room.

The rest of the Slytherins, who'd been busily collecting their books and generally getting ready to go to their first class of the day stared at her with venomous loathing.

As she passed Blaise Zabini, who seemed to be Malfoy's Left-tenant in everything, including becoming the Slytherin Collective Brain when he wasn't available, hissed, "You _bitch_! He's _only_ fourteen! You've broken his nose!"

"And this should induce…what, in me, exactly?"

Blaise glared at the muggle. "_Pity!"_ she spat.

"Sorry, fresh out of pity," interjected Donia. "Used it all up on _my_ friends, whom you plague at every turn. What about you? Do you have any pity to spare? On Jess, maybe who was in lots of pain yesterday? Or Katie who I've never seen so upset in my life before? What about Steph and her ruined school record? And Sarah…Sarah…who…"

_Who is quickly becoming a local business mogul crafty enough to shame Donald Trump…_ Donia decided to end _that_ sentence with a strategic 'emotional loss for words'.

"You started it!" cried Pansy Parkinson.

"What! How the fuck did _I_ start it?" asked Donia incredulously.

"You threw a pie at Draco first…"

"_He took Katie's **mouth** away!"_

"Well, you humiliated his Dad! How would you want him to behave?" yelled Blaise.

Silence.

"I didn't humiliate _anyone_'s Dad…"

"Yes you _did_! Draco's!"

Donia stared at Blaise.

_Okay…so this crazy Slytherin crack-whore is accusing me of insulting Draco's father…Either she's a complete fruit cake, which is **my** favorite answer, or…._

The muggle wracked her brains and then wracked them again, searching her memory banks.

Then it clicked. That blonde wizard…that night in the alley…with Voldemort…Lucius Malfoy…._Malfoy_.

Donia began laughing so hard she had to sit down. Blaise's face went slightly red as the beautiful thick emerald green Persian carpets got smeared with white pie.

"What's so funny?" she snarled.

"Lucius Malfoy is…_That's_ Draco's….Draco's….?"

"Yes!" Pansy rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you didn't clue in! Are all muggles this _stupid_?"

"I dunno," Donia shrugged getting to her feet. "Are all Slytherins this INSANE?"

"What!"

"He was trying to _kill_ us, you Prozac-needing, Valium-lacking nutt-bags!" Donia didn't have a single trace of amusement in her voice, this time. "Only an _idiot_ would misconstrue a fight for _survival_ as a personal insult! Draco Malfoy's lucky I didn't have some sort of gun on me, that night, because if I could go back, I'd KILL his father, not just _'humiliate'_ him, whatever the fuck _that_ means. Now get the fuck out of my face. As funny as watching Blaise's reaction to me smearing custard all over her precious furniture is, I'd rather be pie-free, thank you very much."

"Muggles," hissed Blaise at Donia's back. "No class _whatsoever_."

"You're wrong." Replied Donia. "I have _loads_ of class. I'm _all_ class. I put the 'Ass' in 'Class'…"

Her door slammed shut.

"So Lucius is Draco's father, then," Steph mused. "How'd we miss _that_…"

"I thought you guys knew." Katie turned a page in her geography textbook distractedly.

"I didn't." Sarah frowned at a math sum she hadn't managed to finish the day before.

"I figured it out on the train, actually, when he first told us his name." Jess quickly scribbled a paragraph in French that was sublimely eloquent while Donia peered over her shoulder.

"Yeah, but you're a freak!" grinned Sarah, making the corners of Jess's mouth twitch upwards as she stuck her tongue out in reply to the Hufflepuff's insult.

"Guys," whispered Donia suddenly. "Look!"

"What?"

"Where?'

"No, here, you idiots! At us! We're having fun! We're alright!"

The girls smiled at one another happily.

A shadow fell across them. They looked up.

Donia sighed. "I spoke too soon. Naturally."

"_YOU!_" squawked Pince, her mole quivering, one fist clenched by her side "You!"

"Oh hello," Steph's smile was acidic. "It's _you_ again. How can we help _you_?"

"What are you doing in my library again? I do not want you here!" crowed the woman.

"Well, thankfully, it's not up to you." Snapped Katie. "We have as much right to be here as anyone else."

"Relax, Pince, we won't be noisy, I promise." Donia drawled languidly.

"Your promises mean nothing to me! You are disruptive, disrespectful children!"

"Or maybe," Sarah stood up and started stuffing her books forcefully into her book bag. "Or maybe, we just resent being referred to as _children_, _Miss_ Pince."

"You behave like children, therefore you deserve that allocation!" screeched Pince. "And it's _Madame_ Pince! I'm a _Madame!_"

"Not with a face like _that_, you're not…" muttered Donia.

There was an acute silence. Donia looked up from her book bag to see her friends staring at her in utter horror. Pince looked like she might cry, her eyes shiny with fresh tears, her face as red as the hideous lipstick she wore on her pencil thin lips, which, by the way, were quivering violently, all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry, was that out loud?"

* * *

"What the hell is the matter with you!" yelled Jess the moment they were in the hallway.

"Oh, come on!" laughed Donia easily. "You were thinking it!"

"_No_! _No_, I _wasn't_! Now we'll _never_ be allowed back in the library!"

"Oh boo hoo, we can't read magical textbooks anymore! Woe is us! How will we _ever_ pass…" The Slytherin's sarcasm was scathing.

"Forget the damned textbooks! What about that poor woman!"

"You know, Donia," said Steph softly, as they walked down the hallway, their books in their arms since they hadn't had anymore time to pack, after Donia's nasty critique of Pince's physique. "We can't take on the _whole_ school…"

"You make it sound like we have a choice, Steph." Donia replied loudly. Her volume was rising the more she felt attacked. Steph rolled her eyes. There was no controlling where this was going, now. "The school took _us_ on first!"

"You turn everything into a war, don't you! You just have to!" Jess raved. "It didn't have to be _this_ bad, but you had to go and throw the stupid pie into Malfoy's face…"

"Oh, not _this_ again," stormed Donia.

"You two, please!" Katie tried to be heard over her two friends, but Donia bulldozed on. She had that nasty gleam in her eyes that she got when she was seething with fury.

Jess' eyes, in the meantime, were beginning to go a familiar shade of pink as she got closer and closer to bursting into angry tears.

"What would you have me do, be a quivering jelly of push-over, like you?" snapped Donia.

"Of course you'd mistake restraint for cowardice! You're a raving, psychotic lunatic!"

Silence.

Donia's jaw was set, her eyes narrowed and burning as she focused on the now sobbing Jess. "I went back into that dungeon for you." She said quietly. Somehow, her softer tones wound up being more threatening than her loud voice.

"I didn't ask you to!"

"No you didn't. But it's what friends do, Jessica. Psychotic friends, I guess, but friends none the less. And that pie I threw at Malfoy that seems to have ruined _your_ life in some strange way? That was for Katie, on the train, remember that?"

"Shut up!" howled Jess. "Just shut up! You're doing it again! You're being _spiteful_!"

"How the fuck am I being spiteful!"

"You're making me look like I didn't care about Katie on the train…"

"I'm doing no such thing!" exploded Donia, her volume returning as the hurt subsided into limitless wrath. "You just don't know how to answer me!"

"Oh, boy…" muttered Sarah.

"Guys!" cried Katie. "It really doesn't matter to me either way!"

"Don't try, Katie. It's a runaway train, dear." Sarah patted the Gryffindor on the shoulder in a conciliatory manner.

"…and I _did_ care! I _did_!" sobbed Jess.

"I didn't say otherwise! Don't make me out to be some kind of unfeeling monster!" If the Slytherin snarled anymore than she already was, her face would split in half at the jaw.

Jess had completely lost the ability to defend herself, by this time. She just stood where she was and cried deeply. All the pain and fear and hostility she'd felt for days and days spilling out of her, beyond her control.

"Right, that's enough you two." Steph stepped between the both of them and pushed them away from one another.

Katie and Sarah watched in mute depression.

"Jess, are you okay?" asked Steph softly.

"Yeah, why the hell don't you ask _her_ if she's alright, first, Steph!" drawled Donia.

"Oi! Shut up." Snapped Sarah. "Steph's neutral. You know that. Don't be an idiot."

Donia fell silent.

Steph took a deep breath and turned around to face her. "Are you alright, Donia?"

"No I'm not."

"Alright, that's good. Neither is Jess." Said Steph coldly facing away from both of them. "Now, let us please make our way, without further ado, towards the Great Hall where we can go on doing our homework without further disruption…"

"No! Sorry! I'm not. I can't just sit and do my homework and pretend we weren't just _unfairly_ thrown out of a library by a bitter, old hag." Snapped Donia.

"Suite yourself." Shrugged Steph quietly.

On the inside, it was almost killing her to see Donia's face crumble the way it did at this unemotional reply.

But Steph was sensible.

And Steph knew that you couldn't fight fire with fire. You had to cruelly put it out cold first, before you could carefully light it again later.

"That's the way it is then, is it? Fine."

The Slytherin muggle turned and walked stiffly away.

Her friends looked on after her, hearing her heals click angrily against the ancient flagstones.

"Why do I feel like I just preformed acts of unspeakable cruelty on an entire population of small defenseless furry creatures with big innocent brown eyes?" murmured Steph with a pained expression on her face.

"She's very good at making you feel that way, isn't she?" laughed Katie, mirthlessly. "Oh, Donny…"

"I feel… absolutely wretched." Steph's shoulders drooped tiredly. "Why do I always have to do that?"

"Because you're the voice of reason and equally fond of all of us?" suggested Katie.

"Because you have nerves of steel and are full of jello-y goodness?" suggested Sarah.

Silence.

"W-w-_what_?"

"I don't know; never mind." Sarah shook her head to dismiss the evil image. "I mean, you're the only one who can shut her down like that. I'd probably bitch and Katie…"

"Katie'd take her side." Murmured Jess quietly from behind them. Her cheeks were wet with silent misery and her face was so pale that the purple bullseye seemed to glow.

For a moment Steph and Sarah worried about another accusatory fight breaking out. To their utmost surprise and yet as was completely true to her nature, Katie turned to Jess and smiled tenderly. "You know, you're probably right, Jess."

Jess smiled hesitantly back and nodded her understanding.

"Now, why is that?" wondered Sarah putting a fond arm around Katie's shoulders and squeezing her fellow blond lovingly. "What makes you, Katharine Gale Dubois, immune to the Deadly I'm-Often-A-Prat-But-You-Know-You-Love-Me Donia virus?"

Katie giggled. "I'm not sure I'm totally immune! I mean, there was that time in Year ten, when we were at Pizza Hut and she started making the salt and pepper cellars have sex…Remember that?"

"Aw! Yeah! _Ew_!"

"OH God I remember that! I tried to forget, but…"

"Gross!"

Even Jess was grinning now.

"But," Katie continued. "She…she didn't want to walk into that alley, that night, when Voldemort almost killed us. She wanted to run away and she didn't because _I_ ran back We all ran back in. So she didn't run away and almost lost her life for it. And, I mean, if she's willing to get hurt for me…then…to hell with the rest of Hogwarts. They can be my enemies if they want to be." She smiled, thinking of the willful Slytherin muggle. "Besides," she shrugged, a mischievous look in her eye. "Being friends with Donia's like sleeping under the wing of a dragon. It's awfully warm…but it also reminds you how…_NOT DEAD_ you are!"

"You know," said Sarah grinning. "I didn't get a word of that, but I bet it was very well put!"

* * *

_**And so concludes another chapter of Purple Bullseye. Hang on to your Harveys, people because this is the last of the fluffy chapters. From here on in, the maddness increases tenfold, not to mention the creepiness.**_

_**And just to whet your appetites, here's a sneak preview of Chapter 6…**_

A slight breeze wafted near her cheek in the dark.

_Oh thank God it's a breeze. It's stifling in here…_ she thought. Then…._Why is there a breeze in a windowless room?_

For a moment it felt like her heart had completely stopped beating. Her skin crawled and blood rushed so fast to her head, filled with so much adrenaline, that she almost threw up.

Donia gagged with fear in the darkness, as she struggled to strangled at birth any noise of panic she might make.

_Someone else was in her room._

_And they were breathing on her…_

**_Until next time, lovelies._**


	6. Fracture II: Hate

_Hello, oh wonderful readers! Here's another chapter for you. Standard disclaimers apply, of course. I'd like to thank my Betas again, Katie, Liv and Sarah, as well as Jyoti for the enthusiasm that always gets me through the writer's block. Also, special thanks must go out to Sage Darkwoods for the brilliant Joan of Ark idea (Yes, Harry is kinda like that, isn't he?), Phorcys for mentioning the 'technology withdrawl' problem (I promise it will be dealt with in the coming chapters) and NeverTooOld for simply pinning down Draco's character in two lines!_

_Preview of chapter 7 at the end!_

**

* * *

Chapter 6. Fracture II: Hate **

Blaise was feeling slightly neglected.

Draco was _not_ in a good mood and when he was _not_ in a good mood, he tended to just not give a damn about anyone else.

There he was now, sitting in front of the fire, covered with healing serum from Madame Pomfrey's cupboard, looking through the homework he should have had done by now.

Except that _Gryffindor muggle_ had put him in the infirmary. So now he was in a frenzy of academic panic, riffling through old pieces of parchment covered in notes looking for the one that had the information for the potions assignment on it.

_God, _thought Draco._ What was the matter with him! He couldn't even remember back to a week ago when Snape had ruthlessly gone through every single detail of how he wanted the assignment to look like! And speaking of looks, he could bet ten galleons he looked like shit, right now…_

"Draco?"

"What, Blaise?"

"I ordered that piece of green crushed velvet you said made my eyes look pretty, "she held it out so he could see.

He didn't even cast a glance.

"Hmm? Oh, that's nice, Blaise."

"Um…should I make it into a dress? Or a cloak?" she smiled sweetly.

"Blaise," he snapped. "I'm _clearly_ trying to do something here."

"Oh…sorry, Draco."

"No, don't be sorry," he said in gentler tones, still not looking at her, but instead casting his eyes quickly over the piece of parchment he'd finally found crumpled at the bottom of his book bag. "Just…go away, or something…"

Blaise noiselessly retreated across the common room, sadly reminiscing to the days when she had been the centre of Draco's attention. That had almost been four years ago, in Year Three.

He'd taken _Pansy_ to the Yule Ball the year after that.

Oh they were still close, Draco and her, but there were times when Draco just seemed to be tired of her. She couldn't hold his attention for more than five minutes, even though he _was_ still considerably 'fond' of her. Draco was 'fond' of all his Slytherins, but particularly of Blaise, who, he said, had potential. She was his assistant, his darling, his captain, just like Pansy was his dance-partner and flirting companion, or Flint was his manly sports mate, Malcolm his little brother that he never had, and Crabbe and Goyle extensions of himself.

Draco cared; Blaise _knew_ that.

She just often wished that he cared about her in the other way he seemed to have began feeling in third year. They'd even gotten as far as kissing, that year…

"Pansy," said Blaise approaching the other girl, who'd been carefully checking Malcolm's newly heeled but still rather tender nose. Draco had promised him revenge for the nose…right after writing Professor Binns' quiz, that evening.

"Yes, darling?"

"What do you think I should do with this materia…"

The portrait hole opened and the muggle walked into the room.

Silence fell instantly as the Slytherins tensed, ready for an attack.

Ironically enough, neither Draco nor the muggle seemed inclined to face off with their respective archenemy, at the moment.

"Muggle bitch." He muttered by way of greeting as he continued frantically scribbling down his potions homework and _sh_e distractedly replied with, "Albino bastard." before strolling over to the empty sofa on the opposite side of the room and draping herself on to it. Then, putting her hands underneath her head, she proceeded to frown distractedly at the ceiling in a comfortable silence.

The Slytherins gaped at her. Then they gaped at Draco. Then they gaped at her again.

She wasn't going to her room.

Why wasn't she going to her room?

More importantly, why wasn't Draco _upset _that she wasn't going to her room?

"Blaise," drawled Draco suddenly, eyes glued to his parchment. "Please tell the muggle that she is not welcome in our common area. She's not worthy of being in it…"

_Ah…there we go._

"Blaise," The muggle's eyes never left the ceiling for an instant. "Tell your ringmaster that I'm in an especially foul mood right now, and that if he so much as opens his mouth again this evening I'll burn every single piece of paper I can find with his handwriting on it. One of them is _bound_ to be his homework."

"Blaise, tell the muggle filth that if she so much as touches my things I'll remove her fingers permanently…"

"Blaise, tell the anemic patsy that he should try that, because I'll laugh my ass off when he looks like a pile of mashed potatoes after I beat him with my finger-less fists…"

"_How DARE you_…" he hissed. Leaping to his feet, his papers flying every which way. Crabbe and Goyle emerged out of the shadows by the fireplace, suddenly, as if to a silent dog whistle. "You come into _my_ common room and have the audacity to threaten _me_?"

Donia thought hard, reaching into the depths of her brain, for an intelligent answer. In the end, all she could come up with was, "…Yes."

Crabbe and Goyle took a step forward. The muggle didn't even look away from the ceiling but Blaise, who was standing the closest to her, could see the pupils narrow in the green eyes. Blaise took a hasty step back, as did a few other people, ready for all out war.

To everyone's surprise, Draco suddenly yelled, "Crabbe! Goyle! What the HELL do you _think_ you're doing?"

"Er…beatin' 'er up?" replied Goyle simply.

"We can't do that now!" shrieked Draco, frothing at the mouth. "Potions is in _ten minutes!_ I need to _start_ this _bloody assignment!_ We _don't_ have _time_ for this!"

"What a drama queen…" murmured Donia, rolling her eyes to herself.

"You!" he turned on her. "There _will_ be time for _you_ later!"

"Oh goody…"

"How dare you come into my common room and insult _me_?"

"If you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen."

For a moment there was absolute silence.

Draco suddenly smiled. "You're right," he murmured. "I can't concentrate, so I _will_ leave. I'll go to the library. And I'll be sure to mention how having a muggle in _my_ common room disrupts my education. I hear Madame Pince might share some of my views…"

He sauntered out of the portrait hole whistling distractedly. Crabbe and Goyle automatically followed him, looking as confused as ever.

Blaise watched him go and felt anger at the injustice of it all rise inside her. The other Slytherins were muttering about the same thing, too. She took her cue from them and stomped over to where the muggle was lying down.

"You!' she seethed. "What do you want from us? You can't just chase him out of here like that!"

"Blaise, on any other day I would laugh at you hysterically for thinking that I give a rat's ass about what I can and cannot do to your…Spiritual Leader…but right now, all's your bound to do is get the bottom of my shoe in the face." Replied Donia irritably.

Silence. Blaise studied her carefully.

The muggle was…not as collected as she usually was. Something was on her mind.

"What happened?" asked Blaise before she could stop herself.

As it turned out, this seemed to be the best thing to have said because it seemed to infuriate the muggle a little.

"_Not_ that it's any of your business or anything, Zabini, but I happen to be reassessing a conversation I've just had with one of my friends, thank you very much! Now will you _please_ fuck the hell off?"

"Oh!" Blaise smiled, pleased. "Did they finally talk to you about your quite unwarranted arrogance?"

"Blaise," Donia put an exaggerated hurt look on her face. "I thought you _liked_ arrogance. You seem to moon after it enough in Malfoy!"

Silence.

The rest of the Slytherins looked up from whatever they were doing and stared at Blaise, anxious, embarrassed and yet wickedly intrigued at the same time.

"I…I don't moon after Draco…" she stuttered.

"Yeah, you do. You moon after him like a sick puppy." Answered Donia with an exceedingly bored expression. "He says jump, you say how high…"

Blaise scoffed, "But that's all of us! He's our boss! Our leader! He's the only one brave enough to openly oppose mudbloods and MUGGLES in this school!"

"Please stop, for your own sake, before I smack you." Said Donia looking as if she'd eaten something bitter. She looked away from Blaise (who was hovering over her, still clutching the piece of crushed velvet in her hands) and turned her attention back up at the ceiling.

But Blaise _still_ didn't go away. She stood over Donia silently for a few seconds until the disconcerted muggle's eyes finally swiveled back at her again.

"Blaise! Will you PLEASE go away! Go away! Why _won't_ you go when _I_ tell you to? You do it so well when _Draco_ tells you to!"

"_Shut up_." Hissed Blaise suddenly, her face crumbling.

Donia stared at the other girl, suddenly realizing how close to the nerve she'd come with her observations on Blaise and Draco. She looked around at the other Slytherins. None of them seemed to be noticing _this_ portion of the conversation; they were slowly leaving, one by one, to go to class. The ones who weren't were talking amongst themselves or doing homework. Pansy was still fussing over Malcolm.

Donia paused a second to admire her handy work on Malcolm's face before pushing herself up from her languid drape into a sitting position. "Come on, Blaise. Don't blubber like a love-sick child, for the love of God…"

"I'm _not _blubbering…" burbled Blaise through what sounded like a wall of snot, trying very hard to regain control of herself.

"Aw, shite," Donia hung her head helplessly. "I keep making people cry, today…"

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a callous, insensitive... unreasonable…"

"_Yes_, I've heard it all once, today, Blaise, thank you very much…"

Blaise sniffled.

Donia looked up at her from beneath beetled brows.

_Okay, so she felt sorry for the Slytherin. So bite her! At least it was proof that she wasn't a completely heartless monster…unlike Draco-I'm-A-Complete-Dick-And-I-take-Pride-In-It-Malfoy-Muahahaaa…_

"You still got the receipt to this stuff?" said Donia fingering the pistachio crushed velvet.

"_Not _that it's any of _your_ business, muggle, but…yes, yes I do." Blaise wiped her eyes with the back of her hand shakily.

"Then return it. Green only looks good on people with a yellow undertone. Your undertone is pink. It'll make you look like you're a tomato head. Get some red, if they have it."

"Red? Are-are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Donia rolled her eyes. She couldn't _believe_ that she was giving this girl advice on how to look good for _Malfoy_!

_Malfoy, of all people!_

What if her fashion sense turns out to be flawless, as it usually was, and Malfoy likes what he sees?

He could ask Blaise out on a date!

Judging from how smitten Blaise obviously is, he'd _definitely_ get laid!

_She_ shouldn't be perpetuating _those_ genetics!

_God, could you imagine? Another generation of sickly, ponsy, twaty gits to torture and torment the innocents yet to be born and entered into this fucked up place?_

Donia suddenly had an overwhelming urge find her sharpest pair of nail shears and wait for Malfoy somewhere dark and shadowed, where he'd least expect her to be hiding… saaaaaay… his shower, for instance!

Thanks to her oh-so-mundane muggle biology classes, she knew exactly where to snip; it'd be over in an instant…

_Tempting…oh so…tempting…_

"But…" Blaise looked slightly hurt. "But…Draco picked this out for me…he said it would match my eyes…"

"He's dressing a blond. You're a brunette." Sighed Donia. _Did_ she _have_ to explain _everything_? Honestly. "It _does_ make your eyes look more hazel than brown, but it also makes you look fevered. You've got an ivory complexion. Go with it. The red will make you ethereal and it'll make your eyes warmer too. Oh, and I'd dye my roots, too, if I were you…"

"Oh. I've been so busy…"

"It's alright. Being a girl's difficult."

"Yes…it is. Do you…do you think I should stick with black?"

"For your hair color? Yeah. It's nice on you. It'll make you all mysterious and stuff if you make an evening dress out the red …"

"Why…why would Draco be dressing a _blonde?" _

"Relax. It's innocent. _He_ is a blonde. He's been a blond his whole life…" _At least I hope he has…_

"What about you? How do you know how to color co-ordinate? Have you been anything other than…?"

"No I'm a brunette…always have been always will be. This is a lot of hair to dye, don't you think? " Donia tugged on a handful of her thick, monkey-vine tangle. "But I _am_ female with at least two friends of each other hair color, in case you haven't noticed…" She felt a twinge of guilt thinking about the others, but she stifled it. "I've dressed my friends before. We do it all the time. Boys, in case you haven't noticed, are a little more homophobic than girls tend to be. In fact, once, my friends and I, we had a fashion show, and…"

"What's this got to do with Draco dressing me in a blonde's clothing?"

_Nothing, actually_, thought Donia with mild horror that she'd been 'chit-chatting' with a _Slytherin_! Vile and loathsome creatures that they are…

Now, what was her point?

Oh yeah…

"Blaise will you please keep up? I'm _trying_ to tell you that NO, Draco _doesn't_ have a blond girlfriend that he hasn't told you about; and that YES, he _is_ straight (contrary to popular belief, not to mention my own); and that if you pull your head out of your arse in time you might just get him to notice that you _exist_ before you _both bloody GRADUATE!_"

Again, another poignant silence.

"O-okay…" whispered Blaise hesitantly and she turned to walk away. She didn't finish the action, though, but instead she half turned back to say one final thing to the hyperventilating muggle.

"Um…thank you…Muggle…"

"Yeah, no problem."

The muggle watched as the witch walked down the corridor to the girls' dorms distractedly.

Donia felt suddenly very, _very_ dirty.

And tired.

But mostly dirty.

She hadn't slept well at all, the previous night, for obvious reasons.

She _could_ go to bed. It would mean several hours of being unconscious and _not_ thinking of her friends who probably never wanted to talk to her again, or the fact that she might have just cursed generations and generations of mudbloods and muggles to come.

There really was no reason for her to be awake.

"Bed it is, then." She muttered getting to her feet, trying not to think of her four friends and what they might be saying to one another about her, right now.

* * *

_She dreamt that Voldemort was in her room._

_A green light glowed softly when her dream self opened her eyes to see the Slytherins all decked in crushed velvet, pistachio cloaks circling the walls of her room like gargoyles from gothic churches. She knew it was the Slytherins despite being unable to see their faces; but they weren't the most frightening aspect of the dream._

"_What…what are you doing?" her dream self exclaimed fearfully. "How did you get in here?"_

"_I let him in," sniggered Draco suddenly appearing at Voldemort's side. "Now you're going to get it, muggle…"_

_He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named approached the bed, a color sharpie in his hand, identical to the ones the Slytherins had used on her the night before, except that this one's tip was glowing with an unearthly neon green glow. Something told Donia that the marks that marker made would burn and burn and burn…and leave blackened, open clefts in her skin so deep, her own pearlescent bones would shine in their depths…_

"_No!" she cried struggling to sit up…that's when she realized that her arms and feet weren't free._

_Looking up, she saw that Steph and Jess each had her by the hands. In a panic Donia looked down and saw Sarah and Katie holding her feet down. They all had apologetic, sympathetic looks on their faces, but their grips were like vice._

"_WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" she screamed at them. "Help me!"_

"_It'll be faster this way! Less trouble!" answered Jess sadly. "We can't stop it, so why make it worse by fighting?"_

"_No! Let me go! LET ME…"

* * *

_

"_GO_!" Donia shrieked sitting up in bed. Her heart hammered in the darkness of her room, sweat sliding down her back. "W-wow…" she breathed. "Well, _that_ was more than a little psychotic, Donia…Your friends'd be completely hurt if they found out your subconscious thought _that_…even for a second…"

She paused, then began talking again, being her own voice of reason, this time, "But what the hell am I supposed to think? This is what they want, isn't it? To just lie there and not do anything…"

She stopped again, getting angry with herself. "You're a real work of art, aren't you, Donia?" She muttered.

Sweat slid down her back as she thought of the painful situation with her friends. She had been denying herself the time to think about it, but now, alone, in the darkness, with no one but herself to confront, it was getting difficult to avoid the choking weight on her heart.

They were right, of course. What she'd said to Madame Pince had been a little beyond simple self-defense.

But Donia had never been one to hold back. Ever. Why had she said _that_ to Pince? Well, because insulting a figure of authority who was making her feel helpless made her feel better. Simple as that. Pince was hurting her feelings, so the Slytherin muggle had struck back instantly.

Like a venomous viper.

"The others were walking away. Why can't you?" she asked herself.

A slight breeze wafted near her cheek in the dark.

_Oh thank God it's a breeze. It's stifling in here…_ she thought.

Then….

_Why is there a breeze in a windowless room?_

For a moment it felt like her heart had completely stopped beating. Her skin crawled and blood rushed so fast to her head, filled with so much adrenaline, that she almost threw up into her own lap.

Donia gagged with fear in the darkness, as she struggled to strangled at birth any noise of panic she might make.

_Someone else was in her room._

_And they were breathing on her…

* * *

_

"**No**," Draco's jaw was set. Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle gave each other worried looks. They hadn't seen him this upset in a while. "I _don't_ understand, Father. You said our _Friend_ would allow me to work for him this year. I don't understand why he would take his word back. It's _not_ like him."

"Draco, please," Lucius Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Don't pretend that you are an expert on the behavioral patterns of our _Friend._ Enough arguing, boy. Your mother wants to go to bed…"

"No I need to understand!" Draco's voice strained. "Our _Friend_ doesn't take his word back. He said he'd allow me to spy for him as soon as I'd come to my seventh year at Hogwarts! Bart Crouch Jr. was the same age when he first joined the Deatheaters and he's a Deatheater legend, now!"

"And he wound up in Azkaban at the same age too," snarled Lucius. "Look, Draco, don't take it so hard. Our _Friend_ will have his uses for you eventually..."

"Is it me? Did I displease him in anyway? I know I disappointed him in my first year by not converting Potter to our cause, but surely I've more than made up for it by making the Gryffindors' lives hell!"

Narcissa Malfoy suddenly pushed her husband out of the way and her head was suddenly floating in the green flame framed by the library fireplace.

"Draco, please," she demanded. "Please, do _not_ badger your father over this anymore. He did what he thought was best for you…"

"_Narcissa_!" howled Lucius from the background.

"_Father_ did this?" Draco hissed. "_You_ told him I wasn't _reliable_?"

"No I didn't!" snapped Lucius coming back into the green flame and Draco's vision. "I told him you would be _suspected_ of spying. Your hatred for Potter and muggles is no secret. You follow my political standing; your voiced opinion on muggles and mudbloods means that you're closely watched, Draco. So _please_ set aside your insecurities and your ego for a second and _do_ stop to consider that maybe I wasn't trying to control or protect you and that perhaps this was simply the best choice for our collective purpose!"

Draco glared at the stone flagons of the library floor silently.

His father's voice softened. "Boy," Lucius said. "I am proud of you. But you have other things to think about besides joining our ranks at the moment."

"Yes sir," muttered Draco quietly.

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!…" she screamed. 

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" came the reply screams from the dark.

Donia stopped screaming and listened in shock to the other terrified voices in the room.

_Why_ were her attackers screaming?

The screaming stopped and instead, panicked talk replaced it.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! What's happening! What's happening!" _That…_ was Blaise.

Donia's eyebrow arched with displeasure.

_Ah. She should have known_…

"I don't know! Why are _you_ screaming! AAAAAhahahaaaaa!" sobbed another girl's voice in the darkness from the other end of the room.

"Oh God! Oh God! I think I might have pissed my pants…" A third girl.

At this point, Donia, quite speechless with anger, was beyond caring _why_ they were in her room and more fixated on trying to remember what parts of their bodies would be most sensitive to pain…

"Who's got me! Who's got me! WAHAHAAAAAHHH!" _That_ was a _boy_'s voice! There was a BOY in her room.

"_I've_ got you, Jon," came another masculine voice from the dark…deeper, older sounding.

BOYS! BOYS with an 'S'! There were _BOYS_ in her room!

AND JUST HOW MANY PEOPLE _WERE_ IN HER ROOM, ANYWAY!

"Now if you and dear, sweet, Miss Zabini here will stop quivering against me," said the deeper voiced male. "I'll find my wand and give us some light. I'm sure our…er…um…muggle _host_… is wide awake by now, anyway…"

A moment later, he whispered, "Lumos!" and a soft yellow glow cut the darkness from the tip of his wand. "Oh wow…_she's _not happy with us at all, now , is she?" he murmured in that same deep, amused voice of his.

No, she certainly wasn't. Especially when she realized that there were four girls and two boys in her room.

Six.

Six Slytherins in her room.

For some _insane _reason, her crazier inner voice chose to start singing shrilly to itself. _There are six… green…cultists…standing in your room, _it sang shakily. _Six green cultists, standing in your room! Now, if one green cultist, should fly up on their brooom…You'd have five green…_

Donia's _sane_ inner voice patted the other one gently and put it to bed, at the back of her skull.

No _wonder_ she'd had nightmares about Slytherins circling her bed...they really _were_ circling her bed!

There was a silence as all six of the Slytherins waited for her to rip their throats out.

Donia thought about it.

She seriously considered it.

In fact, it took all of the very little discipline and self-control she had to _not_ commit horrendous crimes of passion.

In the end, she wound up saying, in a voice that was even scarier because it was quiet and controlled, "Dare I even _ask_?"

* * *

"How is your school work?" 

"Disrupted."

"Disrupted?"

"The muggle…"

"The one currently residing in Slytherin House?"

"Yes…._that_ one…"

"I shall have that worthless muggle dirt out of Hogwarts as soon as I can, Draco. The next sponsor meeting is approaching fast and I doubt if Dumbledore will be able to convince the other parents that having those girls at the school is justified…"

"In the meantime?"

"In the meantime you _must_ attend to your studies." Replied Lucius, his eyes hardening with displeasure.

Narcissa's voice was heard from behind her husband suddenly. "Ask him," she was saying to Lucius. "If that Hermione girl is _still_ doing better than he is at school…"

"Aw, but she's _unnatural_!" groaned Draco with frustration. "She's a freak! I can't compete with her; the girl has no _life_!"

"Draco…" Lucius' tone demanded that his son regain his composure.

"Sorry," sighed Draco. "I'll try."

"Trying isn't good enough…"

"I'll try harder…" said Draco sarcastically.

"Boy," his father's tone turned steely with displeasure. "Keep that tone for the muggles and mudbloods. I gave you that snarl, boy. It means nothing to me…"

Draco couldn't help smiling a little. "Yes, Father. Sorry. I promise to somehow gain a higher grade point average than the obsessive-compulsive mudblood. I promise. Tell Mother I promise."

* * *

"It's Blaise's idea!" said the first boy instantly. 

"Yeah!" said the three unidentifiable Slytherin girls.

The taller, older boy said nothing, smiled lopsidedly at her and shrugged with cool embarrassment.

Blaise looked down right panic stricken.

Donia decided that she was curious enough to maybe post-pone the killing and the maiming and the punishing of the bad, bad Slytherins. She sighed wearily.

"What time is it?" she asked wrapping her bed sheet around her again, as she had two mornings ago when they'd stolen her clothes, and getting out of bed to go light the torches in the sconces around her room.

"It's about three in the morning," replied the tall boy.

"That late?" Donia was genuinely taken aback. She'd slept for more than fifteen hours straight. She wondered vaguely what the others had done all day without her.

"Yeah," grinned Tall Slytherin Boy. "We're the only people up. Well, us and Draco…but I'm not supposed to know about _that_."

* * *

"Draco?" Narcissa appeared in the fire again. "Draco? Is the Zabini girl still after you?" 

Draco groaned and looked back at Crabbe and Goyle desperately. They both shrugged at him in unison as if to say, _You knew it would come up…_

"Yes, yes she is," he replied. _Poor Blaise…_

"Why don't you give her a try, Draco?" asked his mother with a slight tone of exasperation.

"Mother!"

"Narcissa! Leave the boy alone! He has more important things on his mind right now…"

"Lucius, you have had your say and now I will have mine."

"Mother!" Draco fumed. "She's not a chocolate frog! I can't have a bite then toss the rest if I decide I don't like it!"

"Yes you can!" replied Narcissa fluidly.

"No he _can't!_" howled her husband from the background. "Her father would _kill_ me! The Zabinis are an old Wizarding family…"

"No, I can't do that to Blaise, mother…" replied Draco. "A Gryffindor maybe…or even a Ravenclaw, but not a Slytherin. The Slytherin girls are princesses, remember? That's what you told me when I was little…"

"That's only when I wanted you to be nice to Pansy Parkinson when she used to come and play, Draco! But I remember Slytherin girls' behavior was quite un-princess-like from _my_ school days…" his mother smirked wickedly.

Draco felt strongly violated and mildly nauseous.

"Oh God…._Father!"_ he called and Lucius' face appeared in the flame again.

"Listen, Draco, you _must_ improve scholastically, do you hear? I want you graduating with a special mention if you are to resume my political career after me, you understand? I don't want rumors of nepotism in the council…"

"But it _will_ be nepotism!" Draco rolled his eyes.

"Still, my backing you politically is more than justified if you graduate Hogwarts with Honors and I want you unshakably placed on the Council, do you understand?"

"Yes, father." Sighed Draco.

"Ask him if he's coming home for Christmas…" said his mother's voice.

"Boy, are you coming home for…"

"No, no I'm not. I need to study and I need the library…" _and I need to stay away from crazed people related to me…_

"Oh! My _poor_ darling. Tell him I'll send Snake Cake."

"Say thanks to Mum. It'll be highly appreciated." Replied Draco.

"Are Crabbe and Goyle there?" asked Lucius.

"Yes sir." Replied Crabbe and Goyle in unison leaping to their feet.

"Your fathers tell me you're doing well, this year…" Lucius gave them his best shot at a welcoming smile, which was, at best, about as warm as a week old corpse buried in Siberian snow.

Draco rolled his eyes and nodded encouragingly at his terrified henchmen.

"Y-y-yeah," said Crabbe nervously.

"S-sort of…" stuttered Goyle.

"Good, good. Good for you." Lucius lost interest and turned back to his son. "Now you remember what we talked about…"

"Yes sir." Said Draco again.

"Study and watch that damned Dumbledore's Army Club that the Gryffindors have started…"

"Yes, I'll keep my eye on them."

"Alright. Keep us updated, Draco."

"Yes, sir.

"Good night, Draco!" called his mother.

"'Night, mother." He sighed as the green flames extinguished themselves.

* * *

"You….want…_my_ opinion." Donia couldn't believe the words even as they came out of _her own_ mouth. 

"Yes, on the red velvet you told me to buy…" said Blaise, hoping to jog the muggle's memory

"You want _my_ opinion on the red velvet _I_ told you to buy…" Donia said slowly. Ah. Of course. Donia had known the moment she'd opened her mouth about the velvet that her advice would come back to bite her in the butt.

"Um, Blaise…you sure she's okay?" asked Tall Slytherin Boy. "She been repeating everything you've said for the past…"

"Of course I'm not okay!" yelled Donia startling the Slytherins and making a few of them squeal. "You broke into my room at three in the morning to ask me about a stupid dress plan! _And! AND_…you brought company!"

"I needed the moral support! So I brought Delia, Victoria and Elizabeth…" answered Blaise.

"What about _them_!" Donia pointed at the boys.

"Well, I came along because I wanted to see just how stylishly informed you really are…" answered Short Slytherin Boy huffily.

_Aaah,_ thought Donia. _Gay as a Maypole decked in ribbons for a Pagan spring ceremony…_

"And you?" she turned to Tall Slytherin Boy.

"Oh, I came along for the ride," he smiled disarmingly. "One of the younger Slytherins was convinced you had two heads and drank virgin blood with your cereal every morning, so I thought to myself, 'Well, I _must_ see _this_…'."

_We can forgive **him**. He's witty…and good looking_, was all Donia's inner voice could muster in reply to that.

Donia closed her eyes for a minute and took a long, calming breath.

"Oooh! Look! Shiny! What is _this?_ What does it do?" squealed one of the girls standing by her mirror.

"It's silver nail varnish," replied Donia fleetingly before she turned to Blaise and said, "Um, alright hurry up and tell me what you want so you can get the hell out of my room!"

"Not so fast," said Blaise. "I promised formal introductions, first…"

"_What_! Promised _who?_!"

"That's Delia Barnett and Victoria Mountain…they look like they're twins but they're only just cousins, actually. But you know about how big wizarding families work, don't you?"

"Our mothers and fathers are siblings!" cried Delia.

"EW!" said Donia recoiling.

"Delia!" cried Victoria shocked.

At least Donia _thought_ it was Victoria.

Both of the girls were petite blondes with long hair and bangs cut straight across their foreheads. "She _mean_s that my mum is her dad's little sister and my dad is her mum's older brother. It gets quite confusing, sometimes, at family dinners and such…"

"U-huh." said Donia.

"And this is Elizabeth Moores," said Blaise pointing to the third Slytherin girl, with light brown hair to her shoulder and large, cunning blue eyes.

"Hi," the girl waved bashfully from where she stood, with one of Donia's favorite sweaters around her shoulders. "I'm just trying this on. I'll put it back, I promise."

"Um…no…worries…" Donia blinked dazed. _They were taking over_….Like…roaches… they were TAKING OVER, _God dammit_!

"Elizabeth's real last name is Windsor," added Blaise proudly.

"Yes, I'm related to the royal family, but very, very distantly." Beth sounded reassuring as she studied herself in Donia's sweater in the full-length mirror up on one wall. "We're the magical branch, the Moores…"

"Any relation to Sir Thomas Moore?" Donia joked.

"Yes, actually! Bravo! You guessed!" Beth turned towards her delighted.

"_What?_ Guessed what?"

"That's why they _really_ executed him! He was magical and King Henry didn't know what to do with him so he accused my ancestor of treason and hung him!"

"Oh! Wow…" the poor muggle's head reeled.

"And that's Jonathan VonEkelenberg…" Blaise introduced Short Slytherin Boy. He wasn't really short, but he was certainly nowhere was tall as the other lad. Jon was slight in build, with reddish-brown hair brushing his shoulders and wide blue eyes that could have rivaled Elizabeth's with beauty. He had a well-trimmed goatee at his chin and wore his robe around his shoulder like a cape. He would have looked regal and sophisticated if it weren't for the pink, fuzzy, bunny slippers he was wearing on his feet.

"Enchanted," he decreed imperiously, putting his hand out to be shaken.

The Slytherin girls giggled as Donia stared at him, utterly overwhelmed.

"WHAT?" he snapped with annoyance, color coming to his cheeks quickly.

"It's nothing…" squeaked Victoria.

"Oh it's just that…" giggled Delia.

"They find your evident sexual preference amusing Jon," said Tall Boy with a smirk, before he turned to Donia. Bending from his great height, he took her hand gently in his and said, "Hello, darling. My name's Lars. Lars-Gunnar Ludwig. No relation to Ludwig Von Beethoven, though I _am_ minor German nobility. Deposed nobility, but the blood still runs blue through my veins…" He kissed her hand and Donia felt her heart flutter.

_Yup. He's hot…_ said her inner voice again.

_Shut up and get a hold of yourself,_ yelled her other inner voice.

_But he's pretty, _cried her other _other_ inner voice (the crazy, singing one.)

The muggle took a moment to run her eyes over Shirtless Wonder Lars-Gunnar Ludwig. She'd spotted him before amongst the Slytherins; he was one of Draco's personal entourage, along with Blaise, Pansy, Flint, Baddock, the McNairs, and Crabbe and Goyle of course. He was hard to miss, standing a foot over Draco himself, almost as tall as Crabbe and Goyle, with his dark gold Roman curls, wiry build and winning smile.

"And I…" said Blaise batting her lashes. "…am Blaise Zabini!"

"Yes I know." Remarked Donia flattly.

"What do we call _you_?"

The muggle glared. "Ummm… DONIA! You know my name!"

"No…we didn't really," replied Blaise biting her lip.

"_You_……I've been living with you for _three days_! You _know_ my name!"

"No we didn't! Honest! Sorry! We just didn't think we needed to find out what it was!" Victoria looked down right guilty.

Donia couldn't help it, but she could almost call the girls _cute._ They were younger than Lars and Blaise; looked almost fifteen, maybe.

"But we know it's 'Donia', now that we're sure you're not completely evil…" smiled Beth.

"Are you totally sure I'm not completely evil?" wondered Donia feeling particularly demonic.

"Donia…that's nice and all but we can't exactly call you by name in front of Draco, now can we?" said Lars suddenly. "We get all familiar and lovey-dovey with you, all of a sudden, he's going to be all over us like pigs on an unattended baby…"

"Ew…" said Donia, again recoiling.

"Oh you're right, Larsy…" Blaise frowned with consternation and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest. Lars hugged her back and rested his chin on the crown of her head indulgently. "Draco'll definitely suspect something…"

_Larsy?_

Donia blinked.

Then she frowned.

"Look, it's not like I _want_ to be your mate or anything, so you won't _need_ to call me anything but 'Muggle'. Everyone calls me 'Muggle' anyway. It'll do until the _next_ time Malfoy asks all of you beat the crap out of me and my friends…"Anger flared in her chest at the thought that she might be seriously betraying the other four muggles by having this conversation. "On second thought! Get out! Just get the hell out, all of you! I don't know why the hell I told you to buy that material, Blaise! I feel nothing but indifference towards you and your house and nothing but the utmost loathing and disregard for Malfoy, so you know what? You can all just sod right off!"

There was a long awkward silence.

Then one by one, the Slytherins turned and began to file towards the doorway.

All except Lars.

* * *

For a moment there was complete silence in the library. Draco leaned against the fireplace and thought about the news he had just received from his father. 

So Voldemort had _another_ spy at Hogwarts, then. He wondered vaguely if it was one of the muggles. There hadn't been any other new arrivals at Hogwarts.

Well, except for the new Defense Against The Dark Arts, teacher.

It _could_ be him. He was _strange_, to say the least.

In fact, considering that the one time the Defense teacher _wasn't_ working for Voldemort he turned out to be a _werewolf,_ Draco could actually bet money that it _was_ _him_.

(No wait, there was that _imbecile_…what was his name? Lockhart…)

Unless it _was_ one of the muggles.

Which would be a completely stupid idea, since a) Muggles are idiots, b)Voldemort _hates_ muggles and would never employ one, and c)they'd be a fairly incompetent spy in the Wizarding world, wouldn't they?

_Unless_ the whole muggle thing was a ruse, an act to get Voldemort's biggest enemy of all Harry Potter.

Voldemort _could_ put his hatred for all things muggle aside for a few months till he had Harry Potter assassinated and out of his way once and for all, right? And it wouldn't be the first time Lord Voldemort had fished through the dregs of society, scraped the bottom of the barrel and employed the very dirt off his shoes…_I mean, look at Quirrel and Pettigrew…absolute riffraff…_

For a moment, Draco was a little frightened by how well that would actually work…

"Um, Draco?" Crabbe's voice broke his reverie.

"What? Huh?"

"Are you going back to the dungeons? Goyle and I kinda want to go to bed, now…"

"Oh? Oh, yeah…um…I'll stay up and study for a bit…"

"But you stayed up yesterday to study too, after we did the muggle in," said Goyle worriedly. "Blaise will be upset if you don't get a good night's sleep…"

Draco looked up at the both of them fondly. They towered over him like rock-trolls, with faces that only a mother could love, but Draco couldn't help feeling a mixture of amused annoyance and thankfulness at the concern that emanated from his henchmen.

"I'll be fine. Go to bed…"

"But Blaise…"

"I _order_ you to go to bed. Whose orders do you follow? Me, or Blaise?"

"You…"

"Alright, then. Go."

They left him in peace.

* * *

Lars stood by the foot of Donia's bed and looked at her, with an expression of contemplation on his face. He neither looked angry nor embarrassed nor taken aback. He just looked oddly like he wanted to bargain. 

He _did_.

"Look, wait a minute," he suddenly blurted. Blaise paused with her hand on the doorknob and turned to look back at him, blinking tears off her bottom lashes. Jonathan openly glared at Donia. The other girls waited with slightly worried expressions.

"What now…" moaned Donia.

"No, just listen, please." He cut her off. "Um…um…"

"What?" snapped Donia finally tired of waiting. "What? Can't think of anything? Could that possibly be because nothing on this planet could possibly induce me into wanting to help one of you attain a _millisecond_ of happiness?"

"Come on Lars, let's go," said Blaise tiredly.

"Alright, I get it. We all get it. We've been bastards," said Lars desperately.

"_And_ crack-whores!" snapped Donia.

Delia, Victoria, Beth, Blaise and Jonathan bristled. Lars flinched in 'almost-physical' pain.

"Okay, bastards and crack-whores. I guess we deserve that…" Lars took a deep…deep…_DEEP_ breath. "So I guess I'll have to beg…"

"Begging won't do you any good…."

"Well, then maybe logic will work. I happen to know for a fact that you've fought with your friends because of what my house has done to you all. It can't be easy being you right now; we understand that. But it isn't easy being us either, alright?"

"Excuse me?" hissed the muggle, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I'm not asking for sympathy." He back-tracked wisely. "I'm asking for understanding…"

"In other words you want sympathy!" she spat.

"Yes alright I do!" he snapped. "I want it for Blaise. Blaise wants your help…"

"Lars…" began Blaise warningly.

"In fact she _needs_ it! She was actually considering wearing that hideous shade of green to please Draco! She's desperate!"

"I'm _not_ desperate!" howled Blaise.

"She's desperate," interjected Beth and Delia in unison

"And we're desperate too!" Lars said suddenly. "If I hear another love-sick sigh from Blaise I think I'll just end up strangling her with my dirty underpants!"

"OH! GROSS! LARS!" shrieked Blaise.

"I second that motion." cried Jonathan. "Well, maybe not the dirty underpants part, but…"

"And nobody wants to hurt their friends! Nobody! Not even if they've been sickeningly, annoyingly, _dramatically_ love-struck ever since third year!"

"Lars, I'm going to _kill_ you!"

"So you see my predicament?" he ignored the threat and the fact that his eyes would've been yanked out by the optic nerves, by now, if the younger Slytherins hadn't wrapped themselves around Blaise's various flailing bodyparts. "We _need _you, Muggle. We _need_ you…"

Donia stared at Lars. "_That_…is, possibly, the worst plea for mercy I have…_ever…_ heard." She murmured. (_And we've heard plenty, haven't we?_ Squeaked the crazy, singing inner voice. _People are always pleading for mercy around us, aren't they, precious? _Donia's sane inner voice just patted it gently again and ushered it more forcefully to its bed in the subconscious, this time.) "In fact, I think you must have recounted all the reasons I _shouldn't_ help you out. Including the fact that anything you might find torturous would simply make _me_ breathe easier!"

Lars' shoulders drooped. The other Slytherins shook their heads at the time they'd wasted.

"Come on let's go," said Blaise resentfully, turning back to the door.

"Hang on just a menstrual bloody minute, Zabini," Donia grinned suddenly. "I didn't say it _didn't work_. But, if you really need my help you'll excuse me if I play this situation to my advantage."

They stared at her.

Lars' eyes and mouth widened to twice their size then he leapt forward, bouncing on the bed, and wrapped his arms around Donia, giving her a huge kiss on the cheek.

"Um… get off me," was all he got for his show of affection. "On second thoughts, get off my bed, too. Quickly."

"Yes, your Muggle-iciousness!" he sang, scrambling off the sheets backwards, lifting his arms and bringing them down again as if in worshipful salute.

"And don't call me that!"

"Will 'Your Highness' do?"

"No!"

"How about "Your Majesty?"

"_NO!_"

" 'God'?"

"No, just shut up, I'm not finished talking!" groaned Donia. He was hurting her head.

"Lars, shut up! Shut up!" cried Victoria excitedly.

"What do I get in return?" asked Donia.

Silence.

"Money?" Blaise raised her eyebrows hesitantly.

"Tempting, but no thanks," Replied the muggle.

"Sexual favors?" asked Delia doubtfully.

"Er…? No, not this time, thanks." Said Donia sarcastically. The thought quite horrified her.

"Wait…does that mean that you'd accept sexual favors as a form of payment under _normal_ circumstances…" Lars looked tempted.

"_LARS!_" wailed Blaise.

_Say yes! Say yes!_ Cried all three of Donia's inner voices.

"Er…no." she blinked, wondering just how insane she'd rate if she actually went in for observation. Then, focusing, she finally said," I want the Slytherins to lay off my friends."

Another silence.

Lars whistled softly. "Well. You really _do _belong in our house…"

"We can't do that," said Delia instantly.

"We don't control the Slytherins," Victoria added. "Most of them would laugh and some of them would even come after _us_ if we merely suggested it."

Blaise looked as if she might burst into tears with disappointment.

"Fine," said Donia with a sigh. "Just you then. All of you. No one in this room is to do _or say_ anything that would lead to the harm, either physical or emotional, of my friends and I. That's as far as I'm willing to lower my price."

"It's a deal." Said Lars instantly.

"Thank you," Blaise murmured softly.

"Don't thank me or I might change my mind." Donia replied between gritted teeth. "I _still_ don't know why I'm doing this…"

"You're doing this because you're smart," said Lars smiling. Then, turning to the rest of the room, Shirtless Wonder Lars Ludwig stretched his carefully bronzed arms above his head, yawning like a lion amongst his pride and said, "Well, girlies…and Jon, I guess you'll all be up with the Honorable Muggle deciding what to do about the velvet. You don't need me hanging around. I'm going to bed. Night!"

"Night Larsy!"

"Don't let the bed bugs bite, Larsy!"

"Bye, darling," Blaise stood on her tiptoes and puckered her lips.

"Goo' night, lovely. See you in the morning," Lars rested his hands on Blaise's waist and bent his head to peck her on the lips.

Donia frowned, confused. The Slytherins were hurting her head again.

Blaise turned to Donia as the door closed behind Lars. "I guess the other girls can go to bed too, right?"

"Why are they here again?" murmured Donia.

"Well, we're making the actual dress." Replied Victoria.

"We're the top of our class in Household Magic." Replied Delia proudly.

"Good, coz I can't sew to save my life." Shrugged Donia. "I'll design the damn thing but that's about it, alright?"

"That's perfect." Said Blaise cheerily. "The girls can go to bed then."

After various more 'goodnights' and 'byes' and 'see you tomorrows', Beth, Delia and Victoria left Donia's room. One of them, Delia, actually waved cheerily at the muggle before disappearing into the darkness outside the door.

It made the depressed muggle smile.

Now, it was just Blaise and Jon left in the room with her.

"Right, bring the velvet here."

Blaise obeyed. Donia picked it up in her hand and fingered it, brushing it along the direction of the tiny artificial hairs, then against it.

"Okay, Blaise, I take it we have an unlimited budget to work with here, right?"

"Um, yes, Muggle. My father sends me funds by owl all the time…"

"Owl, huh? Well, since this is quickly becoming a commitment I am making to you, I'm going to say this. Velvet is out for dresses. No one wears it anymore except older matrons of society."

"Oh no! What am I going to do with…"

"Wait!" snapped Donia. "Don't rush me, please, I have a plan. This will go into a cloak, to complete your ensemble…"

"Ensemble?"

"You said 'ensemble'!" Jonathan suddenly got starry eyed.

Donia looked at him, confused, then returned her attention to Blaise. "Yes. For the actual dress itself I want you to go out and buy the heaviest white satin you can find and red chiffon…"

"What's chiffon?" asked Blaise.

"You know chiffon!" gurgled Jonathan happily.

"Jonathan will tell you!" said Donia hurriedly, before she was expected to launch off into a lengthy demonstration on the subject of woven silks.

"I certainly will!" piped Jonathan. "I'll go _with_ her."

"That would be better. I want it as close a shade to this velvet as you can get it, Jon."

"Definitely. Wouldn't dream of anything else!" he replied gleefully.

"I'm lost." Murmured Blaise sadly.

"You're going to drape the white satin with it, aren't you? How utterly stylish!" Jon clapped his hands.

"Even better!" Donia got onto her knees with excitement, eyes glowing. "I'm going to line the inside of her dress with it and give her generous amounts of hem, so that when she dances with Draco…"

"Dances? Draco?" Blaise felt panicked again.

"…when she twirls around…" continued Donia almost manicly.

"…everyone sees the red, sexually suggestive underside of her white angelic skirts! It's brilliant!" cried Jon. "Brilliant! I love it!"

"But what are we going to do with the velvet?" whined Blaise.

"It's almost winter, Blaise. You're going to need a fur lined cloak." Replied Donia proudly.

"Uh! Perfect!" Jon looked genuinely in love. "A red, velvet, fur-lined cloak! So classic! So chic!"

"Really? Do you like it?" asked Donia eagerly.

"Oh I think it's positively gorgeous…" he nodded.

"Jonathan, why are you here?" asked the muggle without even changing expression.

Both Slytherin wizards stared at her, shock evident on their faces.

"You want something, don't you. You're not here to morally support Blaise at all; the hard part's done, thanks to Lars. I've already agreed to help her. Why are _you_ still here?"

Silence.

"Tell her, Jon." Said Blaise quietly.

"I…I…" he looked so worried, Donia felt sorry for him. It was the first tender emotion she'd allowed herself to feel that night. "I…I WANT YOU TO HELP ME REDECOURATE THE SLYTHERIN COMMON ROOM!"

Another silence.

"THAT'S IT?" yelled Donia at the exact same time as Blaise yelled, "Jon! That's not it at all!"

"Well, that's part of it!" he snapped bad-temperedly. "I _do_ want the muggle to help me redecorate, now that I have proof of her stylishness, that is!"

"Jon!" Blaise stomped her foot impatiently.

Donia looked up to where she hoped some form of deity was listening (which right now was the ceiling) and prayed silently for the crazy people to go away.

"Alright! Alright!" he howled. "I need your help with Lars!"

_Oh._

Donia looked back down at Jon. She had a sneaking suspicion she already knew where this was going…

"What's up with Lars?" she asked, though she felt that this question was basically redundant at this point, the way the boy was blushing right now.

"I…I…I…" stuttered Jon, curiously interested in his fuzzy bunny slippers, at the moment.

"He's in love with Lars and Lars has no clue." Blaise finally interjected.

"Well, Lars is straight, isn't he? I mean, I can only do so much, guys…" said Donia helplessly.

"Wait a minute!" snapped Blaise, eyes widening. "Lars isn't _straight!_ You think _Lars_ is straight?"

"Lars isn't straight," Jon looked at the muggle wonderingly, as if the very thought of Lars being straight was illogical. "He's as gay as the purple in a box of Crayolas."

"Gay as a red-breasted robin at a crow convention!" giggled Blaise.

"Yes," Jon nodded. "Gay as a …"

"Alright I get it!" snapped Donia. "Hmmm…."

_Oh. _

Which explained everything about Lars, really. The way Blaise was all over him even though she was obviously besotted with love for Draco, the way the other girls seemed to trust him to go creeping down dark corridors in the middle of the night with them without wanting anything in return…

Yeah it made sense.

Sort of.

Donia's crazy inner voice was sobbing hysterically with disappointment, but it made sense.

"Um…wow. He…he hides it well…"

"Well, he's one of Draco's best-friends…" said Blaise.

"And he's on the quidditch team. It's just better for changing-room politics if he represses his preferences." Jon replied.

"Oh," Donia took a deep breath as this all sank in. Well. _That_ was complicated. "Alright, Jon. I'll see what I can do."

"Yay!" cried Blaise.

"Wait…with what? The redecorating…?"

"Yes, that too. We'll do that too." Donia rolled her eyes wearily for the fifth time that night. "Now please… _please_… PLEASE!…LEAVE, dammit! LEAVE! My head is spinning…"

"Okay! Okay!" cried both Slytherins rushing for the door as if Donia might change her mind if they gave her a chance.

But as she was closing the door behind her, Blaise stuck her head in one final time and whispered, "Muggle?"

"Whaaaaaaaat?" groaned Donia, lying on her back and staring up at the canopy of her bed, head reeling with the events of the night.

"Um…I wouldn't have come tonight if the others hadn't talked me into doing it. I didn't like the idea, at first, but now I'm glad I did it. You…you might feel the same tomorrow morning about that fight you had with your friends. Maybe it was needed when you had it, but…there's no need to draw it out any longer…it might actually be the best thing to do if you approached them first…"

"Wh-what?" the muggle propped herself up on her elbows in time to catch a secretively smiling Blaise withdraw her head from between the closing door and doorframe.

* * *

_And that concludes another chapter of 'Purple Bullseye'! Hope you've enjoyed it. Here's your sneak peak:_

"WHAT IS IT! WHAT IS IT! WHAT'S THE MATTER!" cried Katie, panic making her voice waver shrilly.

But the paintings on the walls kept wailing wordlessly at her, their faces contorted with a horrified pain.

"Stop it! STOP!" The muggle clutched at her ears and gritted her teeth against the unified, ailingsiren of agony, eyes squeezed shut as if her sense of sight somehow added volume to the cacophony.

To her utter surprise, the paintings _did_ stop.

For a moment, Katie thought she'd gone deaf, but when she finally pulled her fingers out of her ears she discovered that the paitings _had_ stopped screaming, their yowling now replaced by the quiet moaning of war-veterans or the sobbing sniffles of terrorized children.

Katie turned around, dazed. What had happened? What was going on? What had been following her, putting out the lights along the corridor and making the paintings shreik with fear or pain or whatever it was that horrified them so?

Then she froze, halfway through her 360 degree turn, and stared at the painting of the Nymph Daphne, the one Donia had spoken to on her first night at Hogwarts. The golden haired girl was lying on her back, splay limbed, face blue, neck broken, eyes portruding and glazed, in the water-colour grass of her painting. There were splotches of black mildew, expanding and spreading like blood spatter, all over the canvas, and black runnels of some sort of thick, rotting ooze seeped out from beneath the frame and ran down the walls to pool on the ground at Katie's feet.

"What...what..." Katie felt her stomach lurch and tasted the bitter burn of acid at the back of her throat.

"He's here..." sobbed Robin. The muggle spun around to stare at the huntsman in the oil portrait behind her. Hispreviously prestine canvas, too, was now smattered with a generous amount of furry, grey mildew. Robin himself, looked pale and weak and ill, leaning weakly on his longbow.

"Who's here?" whimpered Katie.

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...He's here..."


	7. Fracture III: Love

_Hello oh perfectly patient readers! I'm so sorry about how long it's been since my last chapter. Many, many upheavals have occured in my life since Chapter 6, including moving out on my own, working incesently and getting a boy-toy:) I'm back now, though, with many, many chapters planned and waiting to be posted!My poor Betas too are really, really busy. Hence how long it took for this chapter to get up here! I'd like to thank them all though:my darling KATIE for squealing with excitedment at all the right parts and acting out the funny bits, mysweet SARAH for checking for plot-holes suggesting pranks,LIV for her character checks and STEPH...just for being amused and correcting the occasional grammer mistake. _

_Chapter 8 is DONE people! You won't have to wait long for it at all. I'll be posting it as as soon as I have a free minute in the next few days so hang on to your shorts! _

_And with that, I sign off. Enjoy. ;) _

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 7. Fracture III: Love**

It was five minutes to official breakfast time on the fifth day of the muggles' arrival at Hogwarts, and already trouble was brewing in various parts of the castle.

But we'll start with the Gryffindor common room, where the three heroes Draco Malfoy tended to refer to as '_The-Typically-Terrifying-Goody-Goody-Gumdrops-Trio-From-Hell'_ were accosting Ron's _still _alcohol-weakened twin brothers and filling them in on the plan of action Harry had hammered out the day before, all through Potions and Herbology.

And incase you're wondering why _Harry_ was left all to himself to come up with a plan (something else Draco Malfoy would not have approved of), Hermione had been too busy actually paying attention to what Snape had been saying.

"So we're following Sarah and Mad Muggle Donia…"said George slowly, pushing the cold, wet towel Hermione had handed him into his puffy eye sockets. His jack-hammer headache had receded slightly, but not enough to take _this_ well. "When did we agree to do this, again?"

"Yeah," said Fred, scowling beneath his own wet towel. "I don't recall any verbal contract obligating us to follow the Mad Muggle around…"

"Of course you don't! You were _drunk_ all yesterday! I had to _lie_ for you!" Ron raved. "I had to tell McGonagal you _both_ had the flu! Do you know how unconvincing it is to tell someone that twins get ill at the _same_ time?"

He was mostly ignored, as usual.

"Sarah you have no problems with…" quoted Harry, confused.

"Of course not! We're supervising her!" said George.

"That's if you can stay sober in her presence for more than a handful of minutes!" snorted Ron. "I still can't believe she conned you out of forty percent of Weasely's Wizarding Wheezes."

"She did _not_ con us!" snapped Fred, his hand flying forward with the clammy towel. It made a loud cracking sound as it snapped off the back of Ron's neck. Ron yowled, convulsing with pain. The back of his neck shone a nice, rosy pink. "Have some respect for the genius that is Sarah Ogle, please!"

Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes.

"Look, you two, we could really use your help on this one," pleaded Harry.

"Oh, really?" George's eyes narrowed. "And since when are you on talking terms with us, Mr. Potter? Weren't you being all pissy about us missing quidditch practice?"

"Yes, and I still am," replied Harry going red. "I can't believe a _girl_ made you forget quidditch practice…"

"Well, that makes us even, then," began Fred.

"_We_ can't believe a _girl_ made _you_ forget a bludger was heading right for your face!" finished George.

"Come on, you two!" Ron raged.

"No, it's fine, Ron," Harry's face was beet-red, at this point, but his expression had turned from one of annoyance to defeat. "They're right…"

"No, they're not right!" snarled Hermione coming forward suddenly and with such force that the entire Gryffindor common room got quieter. Parvati and Lavender, who'd both gotten lectures from Hermione, in the past, cringed and lowered their heads in an anticipatory manner. "Fred, George, I have done my best, over the years that I've been at Hogwarts, to _ignore_ your complacent attitudes, against my better judgement. In fact, I've encouraged your war against authority and establishment on many an occasion, believing that it was ultimately good for student morale…"

"What the hell's she on about?" muttered Fred. George shrugged in return, but neither of them dared deny Hermione her speech.

"…but HARRY is quidditch captain, now. HARRY. I know you're used to him being your younger friend and having him do what _you_ say, often, but when it comes to quidditch and quidditch practice, HARRY is the captain. He was made captain for a very good reason; he knows what he's doing. Better than you two, or one of _you_ would be captain. You got that?"

"But Hermione…" began George and Fred in unison.

"NO 'BUTS'!" she cried. "Do _you_ want to face all your supporters in Gryffindor when you can't hit a bludger in our next game because you haven't been practicing? Because I bloody well wouldn't want to! Besides, you _owe_ Harry. If it weren't for him, you wouldn't _have_ Weasely's Wizarding Wheezes…"

"You mean _Sarah_ wouldn't have Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes…" grumbled Ron.

"Shut up, Ron." Said George, Fred _and_ Hermione in unison.

Harry just felt a little nauseous.

"Please, you two," Hermione looked them firmly in the eyes. "Pull through, will you? This isn't for us. Ultimately it's for the muggles. For Sarah." She paused for breath. "What…what do you say?"

The twins looked at her, then looked at each other, nodded, shrugged, turned back to her and Fred said, "Yeah, good enough. We'll accept that as a desperate plea for our experienced intervention…"

"…Due to your incompetence and inability to handle surveillance on your own, that is." Finished George.

_I suppose that's the closest thing to an apology we'll ever hear from them,_ thought Hermione.

"Incompetence! Who's incompetent! At least we haven't sold off half of the family business!" snorted Ron again.

"He just doesn't know when to shut up, does he?" Fred stood up. Ron, despite being an entire head taller than his two older brothers, now seemed to recoil and shrink, making a sound suspiciously similar to a canine whine.

"No, he doesn't Fred," replied George, frowning from where he still sat. "Get him!"

* * *

Steph sighed sadly.

Jess sighed wearily.

Katie sighed anxiously.

"STOP IT!" snapped Sarah.

Silence.

"Smoked turkey slices, anyone?" asked Jess listlessly offering up the plate.

"No," moaned Steph.

"Donny liked smoked turkey…" murmured Katie distractedly.

Sarah tried not to pull her hair out.

This had started yesterday. Sarah had suggested going after the Slytherin muggle, but the others had fearfully said no. They'd discussed how the Slytherin needed some alone time to think things over, before they approached her again.

By lunchtime, the poised denial had turned into heated arguments as to, "Why-it-was-just-better-to-leave-Donny-alone-for-her-own-good-so-she'd-calm-the-hell-down-sheesh-she-was-such-a-drama-queen". Sarah had tried to suggest maybe talking to the Slytherin, at this point, but instead she'd gotten laughed at and shushed.

So she'd shut up.

By dinner time, the 'This-Is-Good-For-Hers' had turned into regretful 'Hey-Remember-When-She-Did-That-Wasn't-That-Funnies'.

Sarah had broken down and begged that they just fucking get a grip already and go find Donia, but the others had denied her the peace of mind.

Then, right before bedtime, the enthusiastic "Who-Needs-_HER­_-Anyways" had started and they'd gone to bed on a supposed high note.

Needless to say, they had barely slept at all, the night before.

And _now,_ there was this depressed hesitancy, this sensation of lacking.

"I wonder if she misses me at all," Katie wondered softly, eyes welling up.

Maybe she wouldn't have been so upset if she'd known that Donia was, at this very moment, clutching apurple sweater Katie had bought (and Donia had borrowed and never given back), and crying pathetically in the Slytherin bathrooms over the time when Katie had mistakenly poked her in both her eyes, in quick succession.

"Of course she misses you!" snapped Sarah, going a little mad. "She's probably blubbering somewhere pathetically, thinking we're never going to talk to her again!"

It was probably a good thing Sarah didn't know how accurate her knowledge of Donia's character was, right at that moment, or she could possibly have begun beating her own head with a plate.

"Oh no, she wouldn't think that," Steph turned slowly to Sarah. "Why would she think that? It was a little tiff! Nothing more! We're not angry! Jess, are you angry?"

"I'm not angry," answered Jess instantly. "Why would she think I'm angry?"

Sarah covered her face with her hands and tried not to explode. She was counting down from ten to one, trying to calm her nerves when she heard the giant, muffled '**boom**' then '_squeeeak_' of the Hall doors opening.

Katie gasped next to her.

Sarah took her hands away from her face.

"Um…" Donia coughed nervously. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she was clutching a rather damp, crumpledpurple sweater. "Hi…"

"Hi!" cried her four friends, including the quite taken-aback Sarah, who was equally surprised to hear her own voice join the desperate throng.

"Um…C-can I sit with you?" the Slytherin muggle croaked hoarsely.

"Yes!" cried Jess, Steph and Katie, as Jess and Steph shuffled apart to welcome their friend between them.

Sarah said nothing, which was probably a good thing. Instead, she twitched a little.

There was an awkward silence, not involving any eating whatsoever.

Donia looked around the Hall. It was just starting to fill up, with people wandering in sleepily and taking their seats, casting semi-curious glances at the huddle of muggles, at the Gryffindor table earlier than usual.

"Up early, aren't we?" She asked awkwardly.

"Um, yeah," replied Steph, smiling awkwardly.

"Thought we'd…avoid trouble..." said Jess, awkwardly.

Sarah rolled her eyes with frustration and said, "SO….Donia...What did you do all day yesterday?"

_Please, God_,_ let it be something interesting!_

"Oh, I slept for fifteen hours after I…we…you know…." More awkwardness.

"You…must have been... tired…" said Katie, awkwardly.

Sarah picked up her empty plate and began beating herself over the head with it.

"Er…what's wrong with Sarah?" asked Donia.

"Nothing. She's being silly." Replied Steph, glaring at the Hufflepuff as Katie and Jess pried the plate from her hands.

"Smoked Turkey?" Jess held the plate up for Donia. They smiled at one another lovingly as the Slytherin helped herself to the entire platter. Katie giggled. Sarah felt slightly better.

"I'm so bloody hungry," Donia avoided utensils all together and used her fingers to wolf down a couple of slices of turkey. "Are there any eggs to go with this meat?"

"Would you like some milk too?" asked Jess.

"Not unless it comes with the cow," replied Donia.

This time, even Sarah laughed, feeling the mood lighten.

Then, suddenly, Donia said, "Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you really want me to stop going after people?"

"I…I don't know…Donia…I don't want to make that decision for us… I just…"

Sarah, Katie and Steph looked at one another worriedly.

"Would it make you _feel_ better?"

"Well, yes. I just…I wish we wouldn't attract so much bad attention!"

"What if we already _do_ attract bad attention?" The Slytherin said, a note of careful frustration escaping into her voice.

Jess paused. "I know what you're saying, but can we…just…try my way a little? Please? Can we just try being a positive influence?"

Silence. The other three looked at the Slytherin's face. Donia was staring vacantly towards the empty teachers' table. What would she say? _What would she say…_

"Alright," sighed Donia turning back to them with a defeated smile. "Alright, we'll try Jess's way. You're right. I dragged you into a fight without asking and you guys didn't even complain and now the entire school hates us…"

"Well, not the entire school," remarked Steph reaching forward and grabbing Donia's hand gently. "The muggles and mudbloods like us…"

"Alright, half the school hates us, not to mention all figures of authority who feel threatened by us!" shrugged Donia, feeling stupid. "God, I'm so sorry, guys."

"It's alright," said Katie. "We all felt like beating a few people's faces in…"

"Some of us actually got to, too, eh Kate?" Sarah nudged the Gryffindor, who blushed deeply.

"That was a complete lapse in judgement and it won't ever happen again so you can just shut up, Sarah!"

"That's funny, I remember hearing you say that after taking a chunk off that copper at the protest, too!" mused Sarah in an idle manner.

"And that time, in grade six, when you just turned around and screamed wordlessly at Mars Hopkins!" laughed Steph. "I can still see him wet himself in my head!"

"Oh that was hilarious!" Donia cried.

"Actually, we've all been pretty bad in our time," said Sarah. "The only person here who hasn't used physical violence since grade two is Jess."

"I don't do violence," said Jess instantly.

"Of course you don't!" snorted Sarah. "You're effin' tiny, darling! All it would take is a strong gust of wind…"

"Hey!"

"Bwahahahahahaaaaa!"

"I don't know," said Donia through a mouthful of eggs. "There _was_ that time when Jess was six and she pegged her little brother in the tooth with the fold-in chair!"

"Aow! That must've hurt!"

"Yeah! Brutal!"

"It just takes a lot more pressure to get to you, I guess, eh Jess?" The Slytherin Muggle remarked neutrally.

"I guess," blushed Jess. "But I like to think that I'm just incapable of harming other people in general. I don't like the feeling of taking liberties with people's lives."

"Boy, are _you_ in the wrong reality," muttered Sarah.

"SARAH!"

"I'm just saying," she shrugged.

"Well, it's irrelevant anyway, because we're not going to rely on violence anymore," said Steph firmly.

"Alright, alright, sheesh!" Sarah muttered. Then, suddenly, her expression turned into one of absolute horror and she said, "Hey! Does 'violence' include any and all activities directly associated with making Malfoy's life a living hell?"

"YES!" snapped Steph and Jess instantly glaring at her.

"But I've already order the merchandise Donia requested, plus a whole load of other stuff! I ordered it _on_ the budget, out the twins' pockets! They're supervising my activities and monitoring the money I spend in accordance to the money we make…"

"NO!" insisted Steph. "Sarah! NO!"

"But this is a huge loss for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes! The twin's will _kill_ me, Stephanie!" Sarah howled, grabbing handfuls of her hair. "They'll _kill_ me! They didn't hire me to _spend_ their money!"

"Well, use it for something else, then," said Steph dryly.

"What, three buckets of soluble dye? What the hell do I use _that_ for? I'm not dying a circus tent! I could turn every single piece of cloth a lovely shade of Smurf Blue, in this dratted castle! Three times over!"

"Can't you just cancel it?" asked Katie in sympathetic horror. "The order, I mean?"

"No! I can't! It's too late, I've already got it!"

"Are you trying to tell me that you ordered that much dye and got it over night?" asked Donia disbeleivingly.

"_HELLOOOOOO! MAGIC!"_

"Oh…yeah…right."

Sarah shut her eyes tight, gritted her teeth and let out a low half moan half growl of frustration. "Ooooooh this is not good! Not good! I can just see their faces now! Both of them! Looking at me with surprised disappointment! Just like my parents look at me when I get into trouble! I bet they need that money! I bet they can't buy merchandise for their shop as it is because I took all that money! I'm supposed to make a _profit_ with this venture! AAAAARRGH!"

"Oh, Sarah…um…I'm sorry…" Katie bit her lip.

"Why are _you_ sorry? _You're_ not making the _stupid_ rule!" Sarah glared at Steph over the heads of the other three girls. Donia, who was the only one tall enough to get in the way a little, ducked quickly, stuffing her face with turkey.

"It's _not_ a stupid rule. We agreed on this, we're going to carry it out!" hissed Steph.

"Fine! Fine! Be that way!" cried Sarah, ironically reminiscent of the way the previous argument had ended. "I'll just have to live in hiding for the rest of the time I'm at Hogwarts!"

"Live in hiding? What are you talking about? Those two probably know the castle inside out. How the hell are you going to stay hidden?" asked Jess.

"I'll manage, not that you four care or anything! Just pass the pancakes!"

"Get them yourself." Replied Steph coldly.

"STEPH!" Sarah cried with indignance.

"Um…I can pass them…" said Donia, reaching for the pancakes before further trouble broke out.

"_Put those down this instant!_" barked Steph. Donia snatched her hand away from the pancakes as if they'd burned her. "Sarah can get them _herself_…"

"Why…! YOU…!" Sarah picked up the syrup and slopped about half the jug into Steph's plate, so that the redhead's poor pancakes were gurgling for air, letting out bubbles as they sank in the ocean of syrup, just like drowning victims.

Katie's face crumbled with grief at the site of the wasted syrup.

"Sarah!" Steph glowered. "We said no violence!"

"That's wasn't violent! I was just helping you!"

"Bullshit!"

"_You're_ bullshit!"

"You're _more_ bullshit!"

" You're the bullshitest EVER!"

"That's 'the _most_ bullshitty', you IGNORAMOUS!"

"AAAAARRGH!"

"AAAAAAAEEEEEEYYYIIIII!"

Jess and Katie looked on in mild horror, as Steph and Sarah rolled around on the floor, in a tangle of struggling limbs. Donia occasionally turned from stuffing her face to cast a curious glance, but the smoked turkey's hold was too powerful to let her fully appreciate the catfight.

That was the precise moment that most of Hogwarts' student population chose to come flooding in for breakfast, headed by the Gryffindors.

"Oh look! Wrestling muggles!" yelled George, enthusiastically.

"Break out the bets!" called Fred. "Break out the bets! Red-Hot-Red versus Gladiator Goldylocks! Break out the bets!"

"Oi! Can I wrestle _with_ them?" Lee Jordan questioned with his fingers crossed.

"Look, Harry! We're watching Sarah!" George grinned, jubilant.

"Yeah, that's nice, George," said Harry as he, Hermione and Ron walked into the great hall and headed towards the breakfast table. Then, "Hi, you three."

"Hi." Replied Jess and Katie. Donia waved.

"Why are Steph and Sarah wrestling?" Hermione asked.

"It's…rather a long story…." Replied Katie.

"Hey!" Ron frowned, picking up the empty platter. "What was on this plate? Why's it all gone? I think our house-elves are going dotty…"

"No, the house-elves are fine," said Jess. "Donia's just inhaled it all."

Donia waved again, through a mouthful of turkey.

"Oh. I'm glad to see you're all on talking terms again, finally." Hermione smiled with relief.

"Yeah, fighting with your best friends isn't fun, is it, Ron?" grinned Harry.

"What _was_ on this platter?" asked Ron, annoyed.

Hermione put out a hand and took the platter from him. "Please stop obsessing and sit down."

He did, sidling in next to Katie. "Hey," he growled, in a deep cool purr, before something seemed to catch in his throat and he was set upon by a fit of coughing. Hermione's eyebrow arched and it was all Harry could do to keep from spurting milk out of his nose.

Jess and Donia looked at one another and widened their eyes as if to silently say, "Are _you_ seeing this, too?"

"Hi Ron!" said Katie her face brightening radiantly with a smile of welcome as she thumped his back for him. Ron's coughing subsided and she turned her attention to Steph's syrup loaded plate. "What happened to your hair?"

"Oh? Um..." his hands flew to his orange bird's nest, insecurity making him blush furiously beneath his freckles. "Fred and George."

"Huh?"

"Don't mind him, Katie," Hermione interrupted. "Are you coming tonight?"

"Where?" Ron, instantly suspicious, frowned at Hermione.

Behind them, in the background, Sarah emerged momentarily from her tangle with Steph and screamed "AAAARGH! BIIIITCH!"

"Oh definitely!" Katie bounced up and down excitedly before turning to Jess and Donia. "Hermione's taking me to inspect the house elves' living conditions tonight!"

"NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" wailed Ron.

"I thought the house elves lived in squalor..." Jess frowned.

"They do!" squealed Katie.

"Then...why are you...happy?"

"This is Step One in the fight for house elf liberation!" stated Hermione brightly.

"Step...One...?" Harry blinked .

"Yes!" answered Katie. "Infiltration!"

"Espionage!" piped Hermione.

"Amassing Information!" squeaked Katie.

"Gathering statistics!" cried Hermione.

"Profiling the Enemy!" yelled Katie.

"Who's the enemy?" asked Donia.

Pause.

For a moment, the revolution appeared to have been stopped in its tracks. Then, a stroke of genius seemed to strike Katie again and she said, "Society!"

"Society!" agreed Hermione.

"Society!" they nodded in unison.

"What..._all_ of society?" Harry looked slightly worried despite his wane smile. (Or maybe because of it.) "Isn't society...a rather _large_ enemy?"

"So was Rome before it was sacked by the Saxons, Harry!" snapped Hermione.

"And Golliath, before he was toppled and decapitated by David!" Katie cried. "And the British before Joan of Arc came along and…and…_and_…

"Got burned at the stake?" suggested Donia sarcastically.

Katie frowned. "I'd appreciate a little support here, guys."

"You have our full appreciation and complete support." Intoned Jess and Donia instantly in unison.

A sweat drop slid down Jess's cheek.

"We're supporting what, now?" panted Steph, hauling herself back in her seat. Sarah lay on the floor, behind them, splay limbed, pinked faced, dignity-bruised and breathless. Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones busily fanned her with their yellow table napkins.

"We're supporting Katie," said Ron unhappily. He glared at Hermione, who ignored him.

Steph looked startled for a moment, her face twisting into a mild look of fear as she solemnly stated, "You have my full appreciation and complete support!" As an after thought, she added, "And Sarah's, too."

"_I can speak for myself!"_ shouted Sarah angrily from the floor.

"I take it you won?" Donia mumbled to Steph through a mouthful of eggs.

"Of course I won." Replied Steph, frostily.

"SHE FIGHTS DIRTY!" howled Sarah indignantly, pointing to a livid bite mark on her forearm.

"Sarah! Are you alright? That was _cool_!"

A look of terrified panic broke on to Sarah's features, washing away her concern with Steph's superior battle skills and ulterior morals. The twins stood before her, grinning from ear to ear, the jingling song of newly earned coins ringing from their pockets. "Hope you don't mind that we bet on Steph."

"Huh?" Sarah blinked. "Er...NO! No! No, nooo, nooooooo!" Nervous giggle. "I don't mind I..." she looked around frantically. "I ...will you excuse me?"

The twins frowned in unison. "Where are you going?" asked Fred.

"Aren't we going to discuss the buckets of blue dye you ordered?" hinted George.

"Um? Oh? The blue dye ? The _blue_ dye ? The blue _dye?_ Yes! Of course!" she laughed carelessly (or as carelessly as she could manage under the circumstances anyway). "Of course, boys...I just have some...female business to attend to...you know..."

"No, we don't!" Fred's eyes shone. "Sounds exciting!"

"Yeah," George took a step closer to her. "Do tell! Can we market it?"

Sarah took a step back and then another, looking downright ready to bolt. Her friends watched with baited breath. "No! You can't! It's private!" she yelled.

"Private?" George frowned.

" How private?" Fred looked even more eager than before.

"Like...Like...I have to..." Sarah looked at the other muggles, who shrugged at her helplessly. "...I have to...wash...I have to wash..." She her eyes roamed the Great Hall, frantically seeking inspiration. Then, her gaze lit on Neville Longbottom, tossing Trevor a tiny bit of smoked turkey.

"_My TOAD!"_ she cried. "I have to wash my toad!"

In the background, behind the twins' backs, Sarah saw Steph smack her own forehead with force that would topple a tree. Jess's jaw was hanging loose with shock and Katie had her hands clasped over her mouth in fear. Right next to them, Donia had turned away from her plate and was mouthing "_Wash your TOAD?"_ at her, incredulously.

Ironically enough, George, too, repeated, "Wash your… _toad_?"

Fred just looked confused.

"Yes! My toad!" Sarah backed slowly towards the door. "Do you know what might happen if I don't wash my toad? Toads...get...warts! Yes, warts!"

"When did you get a toad?" asked Fred.

"When? Well..." she had retreated to the Great Hall's doors. Reaching behind her, she found the door handles and pulled down on them. The doors swung open. "Well, I'll tell you _after_ I wash my toad."

And with that she took off, streaking through the parted doors before anyone could stop her, footsteps ringing down the hallway, to God-knew-where.

"What the hell was _that_ all about?" George scratched his head. "Do you think that was code for something?"

"_Do_ I!" Fred grinned excitedly. "_Do_ I! George," he put an arm around his brother's neck. "_That..._ _definitely_ was code!"

"Yeah!" George suddenly beamed. "Yeah! What do you think her 'toad' stands for?"

"Dunno! The girl's cunning, George! More cunning than any other female we've ever met, eh?"

"Yeah." Pause. "She said she had female trouble..."

"A toad is an animal..." Fred mused. "Could that be code for something else she has to wash that involves 'Female trouble'?"

"What, like a body part?" George frowned.

They stood there, for a moment, thinking hard. Something moved at the fringes of their vision and they turned their heads distractedly to see Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, leap on to the table and sniff at Donia's plate.

Then, it dawned on them. Fred gasped and blushed while George looked almost faint with admiration. "The girl's hot! She's hot!" he mumbled.

"And _darin'_!" Fred shook his head from side to side with a smile of wonder on his face. "I reckon that was a covert invitation, George."

"I reckon so too, Fred."

"Well, what are we waitin' for, then?"

"Nothing!"

"Let's go!"

"SARAH!" they called joyfully as they ran out of the Great Hall, after her. "Saaaraaaah!"

"Oh dear," muttered Jess.

"You can say that again," murmured Steph.

"Uh...guys..." Donia tugged on their sleeves.

The muggles turned to face the Gryffindor table only to find Hermione and Ron glaring at one another.

"What's happening here?" whispered Steph to Katie, who appeared to have been watching the longest, a wince on her face.

"I don't know...," replied Katie. "They just suddenly started to row."

"...well, thank you, Hermione, thanks a lot," cried Ron through gritted teeth.

"I've told you before, Ron, if you want something, don't wait for me to accommodate you. You fight for it yourself!" Hermione snapped back.

"I don't want you to _accommodate_ me, I just want you to find a hobby away from the things that _you know _are important to me." He got up, picking up his plate and goblet as he went, and clearing his space angrily.

"Guys!" began Harry, but Hermione cut him off.

"Oh, Ron, this is _so_ typical of you! Just like the Yule Ball in fifth year!"

"_Fourth_ year!" Ron yelled. "_Fourth_ year, Hermione, and if you gave two knuts you'd remember that!"

"Ron, man..."

"No, Harry, let him." Hermione's face was red with wrath. "Let him yell. It's all he ever does, yell. He'd rather yell at _me_ than actually go for what he wants, isn't that true, Ron?"

"Shut up, Hermione! I never asked for your help or your opinion! You have no right to get in the middle of this! You're messing everything up!"

"I'm not messing anything up! It's just like when you got angry because I went to the ball with Victor Krum! You accused me of ruining things back then too! Do you ever stop to consider that maybe it's not _all_ about _you_ Ron? That maybe the girls you're interested in might not be so patient as to spend the rest of their days, wasting their time, waiting for you to find the nerve to be a man!"

"Ow!" whispered Jess. "_That_ was _harsh!"_

Ron screwed up his face with absolute and utter loathing for Hermione. An instant later it had morphed into a beaten down, leaded expression. He slammed his plate down and tossed his goblet down the table, before stalking from the Hall, back stiff as a ramrod. The moment he disappeared from sight, Hermione burst into frustrated tears and left the table herself, at a run. Harry instantly got up to follow her, crying, "Hermione! Hermione, please, wait! Don't cry!"

The muggles sat at the table, aghast and horrified.

"Well," said Steph, at last. "_They_ have some unresolved issues."

"Nothing like a new love-interest to bring up unresolved issues in an old relationship..." remarked Donia neutrally.

Katie gaped at her. "Hermione!"

Donia stared at Katie, momentarily at a loss of words. "_No!_" The Slytherin muggle sputtered irritably, at last. "_No!_ Not _Hermione_... _RON_, you twit!"

"Ron is _cheating_ on Hermione?" shrieked Katie.

"No! Wha... You... Katie!" Donia's eyes rolled to heaven. Jess hurriedly patted her consolingly on the shoulder.

"Let me handle this, Donia. Katie," Jess looked the Gryffindor in the eye. "Ron isn't cheating on Hermione. He just really, _really_ likes _you_."

Katie stared at Jess as if she'd just electrocuted a kitten to death in cold blood.

"Steph!" croaked Jess. "Can _you_ handle this?"

But, Donia could not restrain herself any longer. Before Steph could open her mouth, the Slytherin muggle exclaimed, "Oh, don't you _dare_ act innocent, Katie! He's been mooning after you ever since we got here! You _must_ have known!"

Katie turned her openly horrified gaze on to Donia, who stared into her friend's panic stricken eyes and found her iron-cast conviction melting away.

"You..." Donia swallowed. "You _didn't_ know?"

Katie waggled her head from side to side in denial then resumed staring at her friends, as if waiting for them to tell her how to solve world hunger.

"W-w-well, that's not a bad thing, is it, Katie?" Steph gave Katie a watery smile. "You like Ron back, don't you?"

"NO!" howled Katie.

"You..._don't_?" Donia blinked. "Wow... my romance radar must be wildly malfunctioning. I better tell Blaise and Jon before I do something tragic..."

"Oh," Steph appeared to be as surprised as Donia. "Well, it's not a problem. I 'm sure there's a way to reject him without hurting his feelings..."

"NOOO! That's not what I meant! I _like_ Ron! In fact, I love him! He's great! But...he's off limits!" wailed Katie grabbing handfuls of her hair. "Ron's off limits! As off limits as Chernobyl sheep! Oh my God what have I done!"

"Alright, I'm _definitely_ missing something, here," muttered Donia.

"Katie, what's the problem? If you like him and he likes you, I don't see what the..." Jess put out a hand and gently gripped her friend's shoulder.

"_He's Hermione's boyfriend!" _Katie raved. "And I'm ruining their relationship! I'm ruining it! Ruining it!"

"No he's not!" snapped Donia. "They broke up!" She looked to Steph for reassurance. "Didn't they?"

"_Broke up_! They didn't _break up_! How could they have _broken up_ if they _just had_ a 'lover's tiff' right _here_ at the breakfast table!" Katie moaneded, hands grating down her face, careening out of control.

"_That_ was a lover's tiff?" Donia was so confused, at this point, that she seriously doubted she knew anything at all. If you'd asked her what color grass grew, she would have had to check, then get back to you. Steph and Jess looked equally baffled.

"I thought that was a fight between friends," Jess scratched her head.

"NO! NO! NO! NOOOOooooooooooo!" Katie's eyes filled with tears. "How could I do this? I _seduced_ him! I'm _sure_ I did!"

"Don't be silly," Steph scoffed nervously. "You did no such thing!"

"Then how come he likes me when I like him, huh? You tell me!" snapped Katie, twitching madly.

Donia stared at the Gryffindor. "You know, Katie... sometimes these things _are_ mutual..."

"They were fine! _FINE!_ And then I came along! What have I done? How could_ I?"_

"Maybe we're wrong..." Jess whispered to Donia, who shrugged in reply.

"I'm a _terrible_ person! I'm a horrid, _horrid_ person!"

"Oh, now, Katie. Don't say that..." Steph pleaded desperately.

"No, I _am!_ I _am_, Steph!" Katie grabbed the redhead by the upper arms and looked earnestly into her face. "I _stole_ him from my friend! She was so kind to me and I _stole_ him!"

"Um...Okay..." Steph looked more than a little terrified.

"_When, _Katie? cried Donia, frustrated. "_When?_ I've known you my whole life and I haven't seen you bat a flirtatious eyelash since setting foot at Hogwarts!"

"Subconsciously! I subconsciously seduced him! I sent out vibes!"

"This is ridiculous..." murmured the Slytherin.

Katie let go of Steph and grabbed her own hair again. "I had no right to! Just because I thought he was so _cute_ and _freckled_ and _fluffy_ and _orange_..."

"We're still talking about Ron Weasely here, right?" Donia murmured to Jess. The Ravenclaw nodded quickly.

Then, a sudden thought seemed to strike Katie. "I ... I have to go find them! I have to set this right! I have to! There may still be hope!"

"No! Katie wait!" yelled Steph, but it was too late. The Gryffindor muggle had bounced towards the Great Hall doors and was through them in a flash of blond, knocking over a gang of entering Ravenclaws, like a set of tenpins.

"Cursed muggle!" one of them screamed, shaking his fist, but Katie was already gone.

The three remaining muggles stared at the spot where Katie had vanished from, for a few seconds, before Donia opened her mouth and said, "I'm _so_ confused."

"She _may_ have had too much sugar on an empty stomach." Said Jess picking up Steph's plate. The last time that plate had been a center of attention, Sarah had dumped half a jug of syrup on it. Now, it sparkled, completely syrup free, and the remaining three muggles had no doubt exactly what had happened to it.

"In that case, we're going to need a band session in the near future." Replied Donia. "Katie needs a go at the drums."

"That's not going to happen anytime soon," Steph casually remarked.

"What? Why?"

"There's no electricity in the castle, incase you haven't noticed, Donia."

"I hadn't, actually..."

"What? But your hair's been curly for days! If you'd been able to find a plug, you would've blow dried it straight, by now!"

"Well, that's exactly it, Stephanie. I thought I couldn't _find_ the electricity. I didn't know the entire castle was _completely_ and _utterly_ technology free!"

"Wait a minute," Jess interrupted. "Sarah had her amp and guitar, yesterday morning. _They _worked."

Steph sighed. "Hermione 'magic-ed' them into working. Hermione made them appear and then she 'magic-ed' them into working, when Sarah told her to. Get it?"

"Well, why can't Hermione magic other stuff?" frowned the Slytherin muggle, stuffing a hunk of bread into her mouth.

"Because she is _not_ a battery; she is a human being." Steph spoke slowly and patiently. "We'll just have to learn to live without."

"Steph," Donia blinked coldly. "I may have been too lazy to look for an electricity plug, these past couple of days, but by _no_ means do I intend to live with curly hair for the entirety of the time we reside here."

Steph stared back at the Slytherin impassively.

"Alright then," said Donia. "Look... at _this_."

Jess and Steph jumped violently as Donia lifted up her right leg and thumped her muddy boot heel on to the breakfast table. Dean Thomas's goblet fell off the table and rolled a few meters, making quite a few people turn and stare at the odd muggle with her leg on the table. Donia bent forward, grabbed her trouser leg at the ankle and hauled it back right up to her knee, revealing an excessively hairy calf.

Jess burst out laughing and Steph simply put her hand over her mouth, pink with embarrassment on Donia's behalf, though it was plain to see the slight twinkle of amusement in her eye.

"Oh and this isn't the worst of it, either. You should see my-"

"Donia! _Please_..." Jess begged.

"Well, alright," The Slytherin shrugged non-chalantly. "But I only brought an electric razor and it's starting to get mighty uncomfortable in my..."

BANG!

Laughter bubbled over from the Ravenclaw table.

Jess and Steph stared in horror at the pie covered Donia, who just sat there, looking quite shell-shocked. Then, the shell-shocked look morphed into a looked of blind, rage-filled determination and the Slytherin got to her feet, reaching for an empty plate, raising it above her head. A collective gasp rose from the Ravenclaw table and a few of them scrambled for cover.

"DONIA!"

The Slytherin's face went red, then purple as she fought to control her temper. Her lips skimmed back showing her grinding teeth.

"We...we said no violence, remember?" Jess hesitantly tugged on the Slytherin's sleeve, feeling her friend's arm muscles bunch and release convulsively, as the impulse to throw the plate fought with the impulse to keep her promise.

"Donia, please."

"...ggggrrah...Jess...aaargh..." snarled the Slytherin through her clenched teeth.

"Yes, I know." Said Jess kindly. "But...please?"

Every person in the great hall watched breathlessly as the Slytherin muggle put the empty plate down, with great effort, and turned back to the Gryffindors.

"Grrrragh...stupid idea...grumble grumble...stupid Ravenclaws...snarl..."

"Yes, I know. And thank you." Said Jess, grabbing her friend's hand soothingly under the table.

An instant later, two more dishes of flying pie came careening across form the Ravenclaw table, slamming directly into Jess and Steph's heads. More secretive laughter giggled up and down amongst the Ravenclaws.

"Ggggrrrrruuuuuggghhh...fuckers..." muttered Donia, her brow deeply furrowed.

"HEY!" yelled Seamus Finnigan getting to his feet. "Stop it, you stupid wankers!"

"Mind your own business, Gryffindor!" A Ravenclaw yelled back.

"Sod off! The whole lot of you!" Lee Jordan spat. "Leave them alone!"

"_You_ sod off, Jordan! Or we'll tell Filch on you the next time you're out with the twins in the hallways after hours...

"...It's alright... rrrrrrraawwwrrr... Lee...," snarled Donia. "...doesn't...rrrrrrrrarrrr... matter..."

"Are you sure?" Lee asked.

"Yes... grrrr... fine... " She turned back to her pie drenched friends. "I'm... snarl... going...grumble... shower."

"Er...yeah, I think the both of us have to do that too..." Steph sighed, looking towards Jess. The Ravenclaw muggle was tiredly wiping cream off her shoulder. "Meet us by the lake outside when you're done, Donia. It's hot out, today."

"Right...grrrr...stupid...Ravenclaws...ggrrrar...pie...flying...rrawr...pies... everywhere..."

People parted out of the muggle's way as she stomped out of the great hall. On the way out, just as the doors opened before her, she came face to face with Lars.

"Morning, darling..." he began.

"RrrrrRRRRRRRRAAAAARRRRR..."

His eyes widened in surprise. " 'Rawr' eh? Right, you go get pie-free, then."

"Grrrrrowl..."

"No worries."

"Snaaaaaaaaaarl…."

"You're welcome."

* * *

Harry chased Hermione to Gryffindor tower only to find that she and Ron had decided to resume their squabble in the privacy of a common room emptied by the call to breakfast. Those of the Gryffindor posse who had decided to forgo breakfast, to do some homework or read quietly, were quickly scrambling out of the way.

Ron grabbed Hermione's 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' and tossed it at her across the room. Hermione put a hand out and tipped over the chess game Ron and Harry had left to go to bed, last night, with the intention of finishing this evening.

The little chess pieces yelled and screamed in terror, the knights' horses squealing, the towers toppling, the pawns scrambling to protect the king, as they all went flying everywhere. (Except the queens, of course. They hung on like leeches, daggers between their teeth, swords out as they held on to the fallen board with one hand and fenced one another to the death with the other.)

Ron watched this with a breaking heart, turned back to Hermione, face contorted with anger. Harry watched as his best friend pointed savagely at Hermione and screamed, "HERMIONE! THAT WAS LOW"

"And THROWING my BOOK across the ROOM WASN'T! You're so immature!"

"I'm NOT immature! You're UPTIGHT!"

"I'm NOT uptight! YOU'RE immature!" screamed Hermione.

_You're both uptight and immature, right now, _thought Harry, but fearing a painful death, he kept the thought unvoiced. _I mean, it would just be too ironic if I've dodge death at the hands of Voldemort so long only to succumb at the hands of my love-crazed best friends…_

Hermione went on. "This is why our relationship didn't work out, Ron! I'm surprised we were friends so long!"

"What, do you want to stop being friends, now? Are you completely tired of me Hermione?"

Hermione looked taken aback. "NO! RONALD! How DARE you put words in my mouth!"

"Then, what do you want? I don't understand what you want!"

"I want you to stop blaming me for all the things you aren't brave enough to do! Like asking Katie out!"

Harry rolled his eyes and tried to interject, "Honestly, you two. This is a fight worthy of us in first year…"

"What are you talking about? I never blame you!" Ron cut him off violently, glaring at Hermione. "And it _is_ your fault that Katie's going to turn into another version of you, which means that she won't give a damn about me in a few months!"

Poor Harry sighed and fell quiet; they were obviously deaf to anything he might say at the moment.

"SEE! You _do_blame me!"

"Yes, because this _is_ your fault! What other time haveI ever guilted you about anything? Huh? Give me an example!"

"Like Victor Krum! Remember how angry you got because I went to the Yule Ball with him?"

"I liked you, Hermione! Punish me for liking you, why don't you!"

"Yes but you didn't ask me to go out with you! You just thought I'd be there forever, didn't you? Ugly Hermione. Embarassing Hermione. You were probably thinking 'I don't need to worry! Who'd ever ask Hermione out? With her buck teeth and her frizzy hair and...'"

"Hermione! Don't pile up your issues on me! I _never_ called you 'ugly' ever!"

"But you _thought _it!"

"No I didn't!"

And this is the precise moment Katie chose to reach the Gryffindor portrait hole.

* * *

Katie ran up the stairs two at a time, getting stuck in the magical quicksand-like one, halfway up the second flight, and treading on the one that swore at you, at the beginning of the third flight.

She was bent double and scrambling on all fours by the time she reached Gryffindor Tower's portrait hole, panting like a labored steam engine.

"Slow down, dear!" tutted the Fat Lady, worriedly.

"C-c-can't! P-p-pass... word..."

"Alright, then," shrugged the woman in the painting. Then, imperiously, she demanded, "_Password?_"

"_Muggle,"_ panted Katie.

"Right you are, dear." Said the Fat Lady. "Though I wouldn't want to go in there, right now..."

The painting swung aside and Katie was about to step through, when she heard Ron's voice, raised angrily, float through the entry.

_Oh no! They're still fighting,_ she thought with great guilt.

She poked her head through the hole. They hadn't noticed her; Harry was standing in with his back to the portrait hole, obviously trying to keep out of the way, but unwilling to leave his two friends alone together.

"But you thought it!" cried Hermione accusingly.

"NO I DIDN'T!" roared Ron. "I thought you were wonderful. I liked you! I liked you! I LIKED YOOOOUUUUU!"

Even as most of Katie did a great summersault of happiness on behalf of Hermione, a small part of her seemed to sink like a leaded weight in her stomach.

_Yay! He likes her so much he's screaming it out!_ Cheered her head.

_He likes her so much he's screaming it out!_ Sobbed her heart. _He doesn't like meeeheeeeheeeee! Waaaaaaaaaah!_

Bravely, Katie drew herself up, and stifled that little selfish part of her, burying it deep inside herself. He was Hermione's boyfriend. _Hermione's!_ Katie herself had already done enough damage to their relationship without indulging in some stupid Ron-related hormonal impulse.

"What, buck teeth and all? Are you trying to tell me that looks don't matter to you Ron Weasley? Because I'm not convinced! Remember when you went mooning after Fleur De Lacour?"

"The girl was half Veela, Hermione! I was fourteen! For goodness' sake cut me some slack! And you didn't have your buck teeth, by then, so you weren't so bad-looking, either!"

Hermione sputtered wordlessly and Katie put a hand over her mouth in shock.

Ah, yes.

The infamous 'You weren't _that_ hideous' line from the significant other. Katie had only ever heard about it from her more 'experienced' friends, till now.

_Oh, Ron, you idiot, _she thought.

In front of her, Harry flinched and softly murmured, "Oh, Ron. You idiot."

Hermione's breathing was as audible as a saw gnawing its way through a log. "RONALD... WEASLEY... YOU INSENSITIVE... **GIT!**"

"What? What'd I say this time?" Rom wailed. "I can't bloody speak, around, you Hermione! I always put my foot in my mouth!" He turned to the other male in the room for support. "Harry?"

But Harry seemed just as unamused as Hermione. "There's only so much I can do and your foot's sticking out of your arse, Ron."

"_That_'s why you freaked out when I came down the stairs with Victor Krum! That's why!" Hermione raved. "Didn't realize you wanted me till the buck teeth were gone, eh?" she shrieked. "You superficial moron! You...YOU..._BOY!_"

"Hey! Hermione! We're not _all_ useless..." began Harry defensibly.

"That's not true..." interrupted Ron.

"We _are _all useless?" Harry frowned.

Ron ignored him. "...I've liked you since second year, Hermione! Buck teeth, bushy hair and all. You were everything I wasn't! Smart..."

"Sensitive..." added Harry.

"...daring..." Ron's face worked with emotion, making Katie's heart leap.

"Sensitive..." mused Harry casually.

"...intelligent and selfless..." Ron's shoulders drooped.

"Did I mention sensitive?" Harry interjected.

"But seeing you with Victor, that night, was like a slap in the face! A wake-up call! For the first time ever I liked you because you were pretty too! Shouldn't that flatter you? Shouldn't that prove how honest I was about it? Yes, so I loved your brain before I loved you face, Hermione; I didn't even consider you a girl at all until you walked down that staircase. I guess I'm a bit dimmer than most. I'm sorry! But how pretty you got was just icing on the cake. Doesn't that mean something to you?"

There was a dead silence.

Katie was almost swooning at this point. _I'm **not** in love,_ argued her brain. _I'm **not** in love! I'm **not** in love! I'm **not** in love! I'm **not** in love._

_Oh God he's perfect! And he's off limits!_ Moaned her heart.

"Ron," said Hermione, softly. "Ron...you're still a twat, but…I... I never saw it that way..."

"Yes, well, I'm not _completely_ useless!" Ron raved. "I'm not _that _stupid, Hermione. You were my _best friend_ before you were my girlfriend. It wasn't just some superficial thing, alright? So if that's what your problem's been for the past year or so, then... well, now you know."

"Oh Ron!" wept Hermione rushing at him and wrapping her arms around him.

_Oh Ron,_ thought Katie proudly as quiet tears slid down her face. _You deserve all the best. You really do. I... I'll stay out of your way, from now on. I promise._

"Um...Fat Lady?" she whispered, hastily wiping her tears away with shaking fingers. "Could...could you close now?"

"Yes dear," whispered the Fat Lady in return. "Aren't they adorable? They'll always be alright, those two. No matter what troubles come between them."

* * *

Harry sighed with relief and sagged on to a sofa as Ron and Hermione embraced.

"You two are stressful," he grumbled.

"Ron!" cried Hermione suddenly pushing him off her and then re-grabbing him by the arms and shaking him violently. "Ron! What about Katie!"

Ron blanched and then blushed deeply, right to his satellite ears, in record time. "What about Ka...ka...kaaa…?"

"_You like her, don't you?_"

"Well...er...yes...but..."

"RON! You have to ask her out! You have to ask her out _now!_"

"No, not _now_!" Harry said flattly. "We've got Trelawney for two hours, _now_."

"Hermione, I'm not sure I..."

"No, Ron! No! You _will_ ask her out! _Do you_ or _don't you_ like her?"

"Well...yes, I do...b-but..." Ron's ear glowed scarlet along with his pointy nose. "She...she's a muggle..."

Silence.

Hermione and Harry both stared at Ron with expressions that threatened violence.

Ron gulped. "I...I didn't mean that in a bad way. I meant...well, I don't know if we have anything in common."

"If you buck up ask her out, you'll find out, Ron," said Harry.

"Ron Weasley," began Hermione shivering uncontrollably with pent up emotion. "You like this girl a lot and I think she's perfectly suitable for you. In fact, I just think she's just plain perfect..."

"Yes, we _all_ know _that_..." muttered Harry, rolling his eyes.

Hermione turned on him. "Shut up, Harry Potter. If you weren't wearing the rose-coloured glasses for Cho Chang, you'd be fighting Ron for her! As for you," She turned to Ron. "If you do not buck up and ask her out, I swear, by Merlin's beard and high heaven, I'll turn you into a newt!"

"Eeeeeeep!" The blood drained from Ron's face.

"And you know I can do it!" snarled Hermione, shaking a fist at him. Harry had her by the other fist and was keeping her off Ron by sheer strength of will.

"Aaaaaaalright, Hermione, that's enough!" he intoned soothingly. "Take a hike. Walk it off. Don't kill Ron. You'll regret it."

"I'm leaving!" she tossed her robe over her shoulder. Her tie was askew and she looked quite disheveled, which wasn't a usual thing for Hermione. "I can only imagine what Katie must be thinking of us, at this time! You fighting Harry, then me fighting you! She must think we're vagabonds! Ruffians! Rascals!"

The portrait hole swung open and she stormed out, running into Katie as the painting swung back over the hole behind her.

* * *

Katie was standing with her back to the Fat Lady, busily wiping away tears that would not stop coming, when she heard the quiet swish of the portrait hole opening before someone ran into her and sent her flying.

"Oh! Katie!"

Katie scrambled to her feet and felt fresh tears of misery begin to slide down her face. It was the last person she'd wanted to see: Hermione. The person she'd owed an apology to. The person Ron really belonged. The person Katie had wronged.

"Um... Hi..." Katie burbled, her voice watery.

Hermione's face was tear streaked too. Katie felt a heavier surge of guilt as she realized that Hermione had been crying because of _her_, because she'd almost stolen Ron! Hermione had _cried_!

That did it.

With a loud wail of utter desolation, Katie flung herself at Hermione and cried, "I'M SO SORRY HERMIONE! SO SORRY!"

And Hermione, of course, promptly burst into tears, blubbering in return, "IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! I'M SO SORRY THAT HE'S SO INSENSITIVE! WAAAAAAAAH!"

You see, while Katie had been busy tearing herself up inside about ruining Ron and Hermione's non-existent relationship, Hermione had been carrying the burden of Ron ruining his and Katie's non-existent relationship. So, in fact both girls were so busy feeling guilty that they completely missed the point and never noticed that they were both apologizing about entirely different, and quite, untrue things.

"Will you ever forgive me?" asked Katie in a small, snot-clogged voice.

"Will you ever forgive _me?_" Hermione asked in disbelief. "Oh, Katie! We're all alright, aren't we?"

"Yes! Definitely! And…You and Ron are alright again, too. I... I couldn't help but overhear..." Katie gave Hermione a brave smile.

_Poor thing!_ Hermione thought. _She was worried about our friendship! How sweet of her!_

"Oh yes! We're completely fine now, don't you worry! In fact, I told Ron to come talk to you; to apologize for his stupid behavior, amongst other things. I really did!"

"W-what?" _Hermione asked Ron to apologize to _her_? Katie? How absolutely sweet of her! She probably didn't want to embarrass Katie by blaming her so she was going to make Ron take all the blame! Hermione was so wonderful. _"Oh, Hermione!" Katie flung her arms around Hermione's neck again and both girls hugged tightly.

"I knew that's what you wanted! I knew it!" sobbed Hermione. "Ron can be so insensitive..."

"No, it's alright! I...I don't need him to talk to me...I...I understand..." Katie wiped her eyes for the zillionth time, resolving to make it her last. _Of course she understood! It had been a momentary lapse of Ron's judgment. He liked Hermione, not her. She'd overheard him tell Hermione so in the Gryffindor common room, hadn't she?_

"No!" insisted Hermione. "He has to! He wants to! He's going to!"

Katie blinked. "Oh? Oh...okay..."

"Oh Katie! I'm so excited!" Hermione grabbed her hands and squeezed. "You still up for the elves thing tonight?" She asked shyly.

"Yes! Certainly! More than before!" Katie laughed and bounced excitedly. "Oh Hermione, you're such a good person!"

"You too, Katie! I'm so glad I met you!"

* * *

Hermione had left Katie to go do some research in the library, and since the entire school now knew about the new muggle ban Madame Pince had declared, it was agreed that all House Elf Liberation activities be postponed until that evening.

Upon parting with her friend before the wizard's library, Katie promptly discovered that she had absolutely no idea what to do next. She had no clue as to where her muggle friends might be; she and Hermione had walked slowly together and now it was well past breakfast time. People were making their way to the first class of the day, walking slowly, since the first bell hadn't rung yet, but nevertheless aiming towards fixed destinations.

This made Katie feel that perhaps she too should have a fixed destination, even if she didn't know where it was right now.

Well, it didn't matter. The world was good, right now. Hermione had forgiven her, Katie had learnt her lesson and Ron wasn't in love with her. It was all clear and easy, even if it wasn't exactly to her liking. Maybe, in some alternate dimension, where the world was sane and there was no magic, another Katie had somehow run into another Ron and was at this moment going to see a movie with him.

Or giving him their first kiss.

Or saving the whales on a Russian schooner hijacked by Greenpeace fundamentalist activists in some remote Baltic ocean.

Then again, maybe not.

"Pssssssssst! Kate! Kate!"

"Huh?" Katie blinked, startled out of her reverie. "Sarah? Where are you?"

"I'm behind the One-Eyed Witch!"

"The _what_?"

"The statue! I'm behind the statue, damn it!"

Indeed, it looked like there was an arm sticking out of the statue's buttocks, waving around frantically like a pleased puppy's tail.

Katie approached the rather macabre scene only to find that the arm actually belonged to Sarah, who was, at this moment, curled up amongst the copious shadows behind the statue.

"What are you doing?" asked Katie quietly. Surely there was no reason to be weirded out yet? Surely Sarah had a perfectly logical explanation as to why she was hiding behind this statue of a one-eyed crone.

"Have you seen the twins anywhere?" hissed Sarah, risking a peek around the witch's bum.

"The _Weasley_ twins?" Katie was desperately trying to catch up. "No, no I haven't. Sarah…you aren't _still_ trying to avoid them, are you?"

"Well, what else can I do!" cried Sarah. "Did you think I was just going to run away for a while and then just stop and tell them everything?"

"YES!"

"Then you're crazy and there's something wrong with you!"

"Sarah!"

"No, Katie! I like them too much to let them see that I've gotten them into trouble! They're poor, you know. Their family's really poor and they've got a huge family, lots of mouths to feed…"

"I know. Ron told me," murmured Katie her mind wandering momentarily as thoughts of Ron brought his image before her mind's eye.

"…Katie? Katie!"

"Huh? What?" the Gryffindor muggle looked up into her friend's concerned eyes.

"Oh cod's wallop and bull's pizzle, Katharine!" groaned Sarah.

"What! _What!"_ Katie's voice began to rise angrily.

"You're _in love_!"

"I am _not_!"

"Yes, you are! You've got the look!"

"What look?"

"You're _sick_ in love!"

"I am _not_ sick in love!"

"Yes you are! Sicker than a flea in a leper's jockstrap!"

There was a silence as Katie turned a little green around the gills and gasped uncontrollably. "Sarah," she breathed when she could at last speak again. "That is possibly your most disgusting allegory yet…"

"You're in love with Ron, aren't you?"

"Yeah, well I can't have him." Snapped Katie ruthlessly, forcefully pushing Ron's face out of her head, with his tousled hair and mildly idiotic big, brown eyes. "He's Hermione's boyfriend."

"He's…what?…Really? Sarah looked surprisingly amazed at this piece of information.

Katie briefly wondered if perhaps her friends were right and she'd possibly become confused about this whole Hermione/Ron thing….

_Noooooooooooo_.

It couldn't be.

Hermione had just as much as told her that they were together. And she'd heard Ron scream that he loved Hermione over and over again. They were definitely an item.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart," Sarah whispered. The Hufflepuff muggle emerged from behind the statue and wrapped her arms around Katie soothingly.

"I'm fine, really, I am," Katie tried to laugh but her giggle came out forced and dwindled into a sob.

"Oh, Kate." Sarah miserably patted her friend on the shoulder. "You know something? You should…."

But Katie never found out what advice Sarah was going to give, because at that precise moment, the twins came around the corner and caught sight of the exposed Hufflepuff.

"There she is!" cried George.

"Hi, Sarah!" waved Fred.

"Shit!" whispered Sarah releasing Katie and taking off at a run.

"Wow! Look at her go!" George shook his head in awe.

"Yeah. Quite the runner, our Sarah." Fred said to Katie as he past the girl by, as if Katie had _never_ met Sarah before and _hadn't_ grown up with her and _didn't_ know exactly _what_ could make the generally slothful Sarah run like Death itself were after her.

"Well, here we go again," shrugged Fred as he too broke into a run after Sarah.

"Bye Katie!" called George as he followed his brother around a bend in the corridor.

"Oh dear," Katie felt a smile coming on, despite her general misery. "Good luck, Sarah! You have your work cut out for you…"

"Katie! There you are! I've been looking for you…"

The poor Gryffindor muggle swung around, heart racing, as Ronald Weasley approached distractedly. He smiled hesitantly at her, wiping his sweaty hands on to his trousers. Katie couldn't help be feel sympathy for him. He looked so apologetic, so frightened.

He'd made a mistake and allowed himself to be distracted, that was all; Katie understood. Poor Ron must expect her to hate him. He must expect her to want to scream in his face and run away.

But Katie knew the truth! Katie knew that it was just as much her fault as his. She'd really, _really_ liked him.

She really had.

But she would not scream or cry when the moment came; when he finally said that he didn't like her. She'd smile at him and hug him and tell him that she liked him as a friend and that it was all okay.

He'd say he didn't love her…but she wouldn't scream. She promised she wouldn't scream.

Even if he said he didn't love her…

_Besides,_ said her brain to her crushed heart, _you wouldn't like him if he _**were**_ cheating on Hermione, would you? You'd hate him! He'd be a terrible person! This is just proof that he's a wonderful, worthy person…_

"Hi, Ron," she smiled softly at him, hiding her thoughts with the steely capability of all the heartbroken.

"Um, h-hi, Katie," he stuttered going furiously red around his teacup-handle ears. "I –have…have something I have to admit to you…"

_She wouldn't scream._

"Go on, Ron, "she said encouragingly. The quicker he said it the sooner it would be over. Like amputation, or pulling off a band-aid.

"Well, um…I've wanted to tell you this for sometime….I…" Ron hesitated again, scrunching his eyes shut and clenching his fist.

_Oh look at him. Poor Ron, he's so ashamed!_

Suddenly, a look of anger passed over his face. Its honesty and intensity surprised Katie pleasantly as she watched him, and watched his long, orange lashes…

_How sweet…orange eyebrows and orange lashes…how beautiful…_

Katie put her hand out and grabbed his supportively. She was mildly surprised when he took her hand in both of his and squeezed it tightly.

"God, I'm an idiot," he said heatedly. "You probably already know! Girls always seem to know. I'm so stupid…"

"No, Ron, don't…"

"No, no, Hermione's right. I should just admit it to you already…"

"Yes, Hermione's always right." Agreed Katie, thinking fondly of her mudblood friend. _What a brilliant mind that girl had…_

"Yes, well, I don't want to talk about Hermione right now." Snapped Ron aggressively.

Him saying that was like a slap in the face to Katie.

She stared at him.

Wasn't this the same Ron Weasley who'd just been screaming in the Gryffindor common room about how he'd been in love with Hermione?

"She's great, don't get me wrong," said Ron quickly, seeing her startled face. "But, sometimes she's…well…it's just really clear why it would never work out between us, you know? In a relationship, that is."

_WHAT?_

Katie stared dumfounded.

"Katie, I…" Ron looked her in the eyes, earnestly, gripping her hands in his, without hesitation. "I…_I like you."_

Have you ever been in a situation where somebody says the last thing you would ever expect them to say and, for a moment, you can't understand what exactly it is they've said? It feels almost as if they've spoken in a foreign language, despite the fact that they've obviously spoken your own. You stand there, in front of them, struggling to fully comprehend what they've just stated to you, straining and straining to glean a more probable answer from the combination of words they've just used. But in the end, there's no escaping the reality of what they've said, no matter how inappropriate you might think it.

Well, at this moment, Katie, too, felt as if Ron must have been speaking another language. Surely when he said, "I like you." to her he didn't mean he actually liked _her._ Surely he didn't mean he _liked_ her. At least, not _that_ type of 'like'. And not _her_…surely not the words _'like_' and _her_ in the same sentence…

"Katie, will you go out with me?" Ron asked, oblivious of the Tokyo Express trains of panic rushing through the little, tiny, country railroads of Katie's mind.

And the girl who promised that she wouldn't scream if Ron told her that he _didn't_ like her…

Why, she screamed, of course.

She screamed and screamed and screamed and snatched her hand out of his nervous sweaty ones and took three or four wobbly steps away from him before taking a deep breath and screaming again.

Then, she turned around and ran down the hallway, still screaming.

Ron stood where he was, secretly hoping that there was a huge mountain troll right behind him.

* * *

Now, normally, Harry would be dragging his feet like a reluctantly awakened corpse to NEWT Level Divination, but today he was one of the first people there, sitting at the little tea table he usually shared with Ron, his foot tapping nervously against the table stem.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Trelawney gave him a slightly irritated look. "Your agitation is filling my domain with negative auras!"

"Oh? Aaah!" Harry's foot tapped the table a bit too hard and his crystal ball rolled off its throne and would've crashed onto the floor in millions of tiny shards if Harry hadn't reacted with reflexes honed by years of quidditch.

Trelawney blinked unhappily at him for a moment, then turned to converse with Parvati and Lavender, who'd giggled mercilessly at Harry's close call with Divination disaster. A couple of years ago, Professor Trelawney would have probably instantly foreseen his gruesome death for the fiftieth time since he'd started taking her classes in…third year? God, was it so long ago?

Since fifth year, though, since…_That-Cow-Umbridge_…as Hermione still tended to refer to her, Harry had been in Trelawney's good books. He rather liked her now, with her silly scarves and oversized, watery gaze. She reminded him of a muggle teacher he'd once had in junior school, long before he'd even heard of Hogwarts. The muggle teacher had been a hippy in the sixties and, well…those days of intoxication had left him rather 'airy' in the brain area.

Harry sat still for all of three minutes, then his foot began to twitch rebelliously again. Thankfully, Ron walked in no later than two minutes into the class so Harry was spared another irritated look from his feathery professor.

Trelawney didn't object to Ron's late arrival but she did throw him quite the disdainful glare as he numbly walked past and quietly took his seat, without so much as an apology. She quietly promised herself she'd foresee something gruesome for _him_ in his tealeaves today.

Harry's eyes followed his friend unwaveringly as he came across and sat down at the table. "_So?_" he hissed, almost bouncing in his seat and Ron slowly and calmly began to take out his books and parchment.

Ron stopped. Ron straightened. Ron turned to face Harry with a stony face. "She ran away screaming. And there was no troll behind me…"

Harry's look of excitement turned into one of rapid confusion. He blinked rapidly behind his thick-framed, owlish glasses. "What? What troll?"

"There was _no_ troll behind me," repeated Ron. "So the only reason for her to run away screaming the way she did is the fact that I asked her out."

Harry stared at Ron, not sure whether to believe him or not. In the end, he chose to believe his best friend and consider all reasons Katie might react that way.

"Maybe she was joking?" was all he could come up with.

Ron just looked back at him with a deadened face, ears turning rapidly red while his freckles got darker and darker because blood was rapidly draining from his face.

Harry began to sweat. "Now…now Ron, I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation…"

"Yeah, I horrify her." Snapped Ron. "I gross her out."

Harry suddenly, desperately wished Hermione were here. She would know what to say. She would know if it was true or not. Harry certainly did not know if Ron horrified Katie Dubois or not. He didn't _believe_ that Ron would horrify anyone, but then who was he to judge? He didn't understand girls at all, to begin with, and _this_ just emphasized how much he _really_ didn't understand them.

"You know?" Harry mused quietly "I could've sworn she liked you…"

"Yeah, well, show's how much _you_ know about women." Snapped Ron angrily.

A little part of Harry wanted to punch him in the face for saying that.

But all the other parts of Harry wanted to do the unmanly thing and give his best friend a great, big 'man-hug'.

In the end, he settled for uncomfortably (and rather violently) patting his friend on the back.

Some color drained out of Ron's ears and into his face. "Oh, well," he sighed straightening his back. "Whatever. Who needs _her_, anyway."

"Um…you know, Ron? I'd try again…" said Harry, grimacing against the coming onslaught. To his utter surprise, Ron turned to him, with a desparate look on his face, and said, "Really? Do you think so?"

Harry nodded.

"Really?" Ron's eyes widened in disbelief. "Because I can't think _why_ she'd scream and run away, I mean really I can't. I thought she liked me too!"

"Yeah, I really think you should, you know. Go after her until you get a proper answer to what you're asking," Harry smiled. "Maybe she gets random flashbacks or something. You know, meeting Voldemort and all…"

Ron frowned. "You meet Voldemort all the time and you don't get random flashbacks."

Harry's brown creased in irritation. _Couldn't Ron see that Harry was trying to give him some hope, here? _"Well, I did in third year!"

"Yeah, but those were dementor-induced random flashbacks…" Ron replied pig-headedly.

"Dementor induced or not, they were a result of my meeting Voldemort when I was a baby…"

"Technically, Harry, they were brought on by the constant presence of Azkaban's dementors…"

"How did you _ever_ pass your OWLS?"

"Oh, coming from you, Mr. 'My-glasses-are-_still_-spello-taped-together-after-six-years-in-Wizarding-school' that's _really_ rich!"

* * *

Stephanie, Jess and Donia had finally stopped talking and were settling down to actually do some long overdue homework, their freshly washed hair drying in the sun (Donia's becoming quite uncontrollably curly), when the great, big doors at the front of the castle suddenly burst open with a loud '_**boom**!'._

From where they sat by the lake, they couldn't quite make out who had opened the doors so violently, but they could see the second year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, doing some outdoor Herbology on the other side of the lake, collectively turn and stare in the direction of the noise.

Then, another noise, fainter and somehow eerier than the boom of the doors, could suddenly be discerned above the lazy fiddling of crickets in the grass or the lapping of nearby lake water. It was a high-pitched whistle, a constant noise that didn't sputter or cut out, but the closer it came the lower the pitch came, too. Soon it didn't sound so much like a whistle anymore, as much as it sounded like some sort of squealing siren.

The three muggles frowned and turned to look at one another.

"That…" murmured Donia. "…sounds vaguely familiar…"

The next instant, they all recognized what it was, as the source of the noise exploded into view, increasing the volume of the _screaming_ to an extent where it almost felt like a physical blow to the three muggles.

Running blindly, face purple with exertion and sweat, Katie ran right into her friends, bowling them all over into a flailing heap of grass-stained limbs.

"Aaaah! What's happening!"

"Ow! Oooof! Katie!"

"AAAAH! AAAH!"

"He'sahorriblepersonIcan'tbeleivehe'dsaythatwhy?Why?Why?AmIabadperson,too,thathe'dthinkI'dallowhimtocheatonHermionewithmewhat'sgoingonI'msoconfusedthankGodIfoundyouguys**I NEED a HUG**!"

Katie's three friends stared at her dusty face.

"Okay," said Steph finally. "I didn't understand any of that except the last part about the hug. Did I hear right?"

"Yes," agreed Jess and Donia in unison. Steph instantly leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the quivering, wild-eyed Katie. She held her friend for a moment, then released her again, holding her firmly by the shoulders and looking the panting blond in the eye.

"Okay," Steph intoned slowly. "What happened?"

"IwenttotheGryfidorcommonroomandtheywerefightingbuttheymadeupandheREALLYseemedto**LOVEHERMIONE**buthenheliedtoher! **BLATANTLY LIED TO HER!**"

"Ow!" cried Jess, throwing her hands over her ears as Katie's voice reached painful decibels.

"He'sahorrid,**horrid**personandhewantstocheatonHermionewithmeandIreallylikehimbuthtatmustmeanI'matotallybadpersontoo, _right_?"

Steph swallowed nervously and turned to the other two for support. Donia had obviously just given up on deciphering the babble a long time ago; her mouth was just open stupidly, probably in amazement that someone could actually sound so much like an angry bird.

"_RIGHT?"_ demanded Katie, eyes wide and expectant.

Steph had a feeling that her answer to whatever Katie had asked in Babble-speak might either make or break the future of the universe. She turned to Jess, who just shrugged helplessly in return.

"Um…" Steph gave Katie a watery smile. "Right…?"

The look of devastation that came upon Katie's face could have induced nosebleeds from a stone.

"Wha…wha…No! Wait!" cried Steph in a panic, as Katie leapt to her feet, began screaming again and ran off into the sunset.

There was a long silence as the three remaining friends looked off after her, worry working their features in different ways.

Finally, Jess took a deep, steadying breath and said:

"I think this might be a problem."

* * *

They didn't see Katie again until lunchtime. Seeing that she'd stopped screaming and running alleviated some of the worry that had burdened them for the whole morning after their initial encounter with the Gryffindor muggle, but the look of utter exhaustion on her dust covered face stopped them from being completely relieved at her reappearance.

She came into the Great Hall, eyes heavy lidded, feet dragging, face slack with weariness. As she silently plopped down next to Jess, a cloud of dust rose, billowing off her shoulders, making the little redhead cough violently.

Steph quickly poured Katie a cup of pumpkin juice and dropped a large dollop of honey into it, stirring with a spoon. But when she put it down before her listless friend, smiling gently, Katie merely looked at it blankly as if she'd never seen a goblet full of honeyed pumpkin juice before.

Steph looked suddenly close to breaking point herself.

Donia quickly grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed encouragingly. Then, the Slytherin and Ravenclaw muggles each gave each other a meaningful look.

In the silence that continued on for the next five minutes, Jess and Donia carried on a wordless conversation involving many covert head gestures and eyebrow waggles. All Stephanie could decipher from the whole shenanigan was that Jess seemed to be rapidly losing the argument.

At last, with a final furious eyebrow waggle, Jess cleared her throat nervously and said, "So. Katie. Um…how was your run?"

It took Steph a minute to realize that the groan she'd heard had actually come from Donia, not from Katie. Jess glared at the Slytherin and Donia shut up. Reluctantly.

"Good," murmured Katie, seemingly oblivious of the highly comedic theatre being enacted by her two friends. She was still staring distractedly at her goblet of juice.

"Good was, it?" snapped Donia. "And could you, I wonder, enjoy the songbirds' melodic twittering over the sound of your _banshee wail_?"

"BANSHEE!" shrieked Seamus Finnegan leaping to his feet and staring around in utter terror. "Where! WHERE!"

"It's a metaphor, you Irish loon-monkey!" cried Donia putting her hand out and pulling him back into his seat again.

"Speaking of Irish loon-monkeys," said Steph suddenly. "Where's ours?"

"Sarah's still running away from the twins." Replied Katie quietly.

"You saw her?" Jess leaned in to talk to Katie directly.

"Y-yes. Right b-before I saw R-Ron…"

"What happened, darling?" Steph asked.

"He's going out with Hermione, but he says he likes me. I…I think he wants to either dump her for me or just go out with me on the side…I-I'm not sure which…" she trailed off hesitantly, then murmured, "She's going to hate me. I'm going to be that evil, horrid girl that breaks up the couple. The girl nobody likes…"

Silent shock.

"A-are you certain that's what he intended?" Jess asked.

"Yes. And to think that Hermione actually wanted him to talk to me. She said he had something to tell me…something important…"

"Hermione said that?" Donia suddenly looked suspicious again. "Katie, are sure Hermione doesn't already know, then?"

"_Donia!"_ yelled Steph and Jess.

"What?" Donia shouted in reply. "I've spoken to Ron Weasly! On several separate occasions, in fact, and he really doesn't seem to be _that_ type of rotten!"

"Yeah? Well, what type of rotten did he seem to _you_?" Katie exploded angrily.

"The type that steals chocolate chip cookies from the kitchens on an occasional basis. _That_ type of rotten!"

"Yeah, well, he's not a chocolate-chip-cookie-stealer! He's worse! Much worse!" The Gryffindor muggle sobbed, putting her head down on her arms. "The fact is we've only been here for five days! _Five days!_ I must have been out of my mind! I don't know him! I don't know anyone! _We_ don't know anyone and we don't know anything and we don't belong here! I want to go home! I want my own bed! I want my computer! I want to fight with my brother and sister and ride my pony and see my Mum and Dad! I want to go back to the muggle world…"

"Katie, this _is_ the muggle world…" whispered Jess darkly.

"No it isn't! _No_ it **isn't**! _I want to go home_!"

Words failed her here and the crying started in earnest. Deep, shuddering sobs wracked her frame so that for a moment it seemed she might have difficulty catching her breath.

People all along the nearby tables began to fall silent and cast the muggles troubled looks. Even the Ravenclaws, usually jubilant at seeing the muggles suffer, were looking a little too preoccupied with their plates and speaking or laughing a little too loudly than usual, as if to block out the evident misery that they'd worked to create.

"We'll leave, if you like," said Donia desperately. "We could…"

"And go where?" wept Katie. "Walk right into Voldemort's hands? Where would we go?"

"Er…excuse me if yer willin', Katie."

They all looked up, surprised at the new voice. It was Hagrid.

"I was thinkin'…would choo like ter go see Madame Pomfrey up in the hospital wing? She might give yer somethin' ter make yer feel better…"

"I don't want to go to the hospital wing! I don't want to go anywhere! I want to go home! And if I can't go home, then I want to sit here! Right here! And be miserable by myself!" she yelled.

Hagrid recoiled sadly, retreating to the teacher's table, where McGonagal, Sprout and Hooch smiled at him and shrugged helplessly as if to say they'd told him so.

"Katie…" began Jess, frowning. "That was mean."

"HEY!" Sarah advanced out of the shadows. "Who's making Katie cry?"

"Where did she come from?" murmured Steph absently, eyeing Sarah with blatant suspicion.

"Oh Sarah," Katie flung herself into the Hufflepuff muggle's arms. "I want to go home."

"Then go home, you filthy muggle!" came the scream from the farthest dinner table, the Slytherins'.

Everyone looked over at the shouter. Donia recognized Tortuga McNair, with his black, gelled hair and angry blue eyes.

"Go home, you stupid filthy muggles! No one wants you here anyway!" he howled happily. The rest of his house leered and chuckled, their eyes narrowed and glinting like wild dogs smelling prey.

No one noticed, but Donia raised herself slightly over the heads of the others, searching for her allies amongst the rabble. It was still early into lunch time and not everyone was in the Great Hall. Draco and his usual entourage weren't there, for instance, so neither Blaise, Jon, nor the three blondes were around. Lars was there, though, small silver glasses before his eyes, with his nose seemingly buried in a book titled "Political Warfare 2: Controlling the Masses through Religious Fervor".

Yet, though his attention seemed fully focused on the flying images repeating over and over again (illustrating broomstick attacks in battle) on the pages of the book, his left hand, with his wand, was slowly beginning to point towards McNair's goblet of cold milk.

No one seemed to be noticing this at all except Donia, who watched in fascination as Lars slowly and deliberately flicked his wand. The goblet of milk rose into the air at a leisurely pace and proceeded to patiently wait for McNair to open his mouth again.

"Get out of _my_ school you primitive, dirty, stupid mugg…AAAAHHH!"

Laughter rang out through the Great Hall as Tortuga McNAir stared flabbergasted at his milk drench robes.

"Oh dear, I am so, _so_ sorry, McNair. Absolutely remorseful, old chap. I am quite horrified at my clumsiness._ Do _let me dry you off; I am so sorry…" Lars jumped up consolingly, grabbing a green, silk napkin off the tables and wiping frantically at the front of Tortuga's robes.

Donia couldn't help staring, her admiration for Lars growing with every passing second.

"You…Did you do that on purpose…?" Tortuga looked more like he'd been stabbed than if he'd had a little milk spilt on him. He seemed stunned and more than a little confused.

Lars looked up at him, through his glasses. "How do you mean, old chap?" Something indefinable had changed in his tone. McNair never noticed but Donia did and she felt her own lips pull back in a snarl of anticipation.

"Like…on _purpose,_ Lars!" barked McNair.

"Why would I do that?" Lars' tone had morphed from suitably innocent to predatorily frosty. McNair suddenly looked more than a little worried, quietly taking his seat again.

_Wow, _thought the muggle._ Someone must pack quite a bit of clout within the Slytherin ranks to shut McNair up with a look like that! I wonder about you, Lars Ludwig…_

"Hey!"

Donia jumped.

Sarah was frowning at her. "_You_! Are you bullying my Katie?"

"Er…"

"No it's alright, Sarah, I've been miserable for days," replied Katie. "It's no one's fault…"

"Why am _I_ always the usual suspect?" interjected Donia.

"Because you constantly make people cry!" answered Sarah. "Anyway, I'm talking to The Homesick One, right now, not you."

"Hmph," pouted the Slytherin.

"Katie, how about you cancel your House Elf Liberation activities for tonight?" said Sarah. "You and I can go out on the town."

"Where would we go?"

"How about you leave it to me?" smiled the Hufflepuff. "Consider it a surprise."

"Thank you," whispered the Gryffindor, burying her face in the Hufflepuff's belly. "Thank you."

At this precise moment, the Great doors opened, admitting the Sixth Year Students, and Ron Weasley came strolling in. His eyes landed on Katie and he smiled nervously, approaching.

She saw him. Her eyes widened, her mouth gaped wordlessly, her arm came up and her finger pointed straight at him.

Hermione and Harry walked in just in time to hear Katie scream, "YOU! YOU! GET AWAY FROM ME! HOW_ DARE_ YOU TALK TO ME! HOW DARE YOU _SMILE_ AT ME! YOU'RE A HORRIBLE PERSON! A HORRIBLE _HOOOOOOOOOORRIBLE_ PERSON, RON WEASLEY, AND I'M NOT LIKE THAT! I'M NOT LIKE THAT!"

And with that, she turned tail and fled.

There was total silence in the Great Hall. Everyone was openly staring at Ron. Including an obviously livid Hermione. Ron turned slowly and faced her. She simply looked back at him, a mildly disgusted look on her face, lips pursed with displeasure.

"Ron- " she began.

"No, don't yell at me. I've had enough of people yelling at me, today." Something in his tone compelled her to stop and close her mouth.

"Ron…" Harry came forward, putting a consoling hand on his friend's shoulder.

His orange haired friend ignored him. Instead, Ron stomped towards the table where the rest of the muggles sat and said, "Can I have a word with all of you?" His lip quivered with embarrassment.

"Not with me, you can't!" cried Sarah spotting the Weasly twins and Lee Jordan walked into the Great Hall.

"Hey Sarah!" called Fred.

"Bye!" she yelled, hopping off her perch on the table and sprinting away.

For a moment, it looked like they might have her cornered. George came towards her from one end and Fred came at her from the other side of the table so that there seemed to be no way out of the Great Hall except past them.

Sarah had other ideas.

She leapt onto the Hufflepuff table and ran down it, scaring the poor Hufflepuffs half to death, and virtually threw herself out of the Great Hall before the twins could even get over their surprise at her escape.

Ron looked like he might just kill someone. "Alright! Fine! Fine! No one wants to talk to_ me_!"

"_I_ want to talk to you…" began Donia savagely advancing.

"_NO!_" cried both Jess and Steph.

"You can't talk to him!" snapped Jess.

"_Why?_" demanded Ron.

"Because you're an arsehole," Steph barked. "And talking to you would be betraying Katie!"

"_WHY!" _he wailed. "What did I do? What have I done? I've _obviously_ done something terrible and I'll apologize! I promise! Just as soon as I know what I've done!"

"How dare you! How _dare_ you play innocent?" Jess strode forward angrily, coming right up to Ron's face though he towered above her. "In front of Hermione too!"

" 'In front of Hermione' !"quoted Hermione. "RON! What _have_ you done? I sent you to talk to Katie…"

"That's it! I can't stand it anymore! Ron…" Donia grabbed him by the lapels and looked him square in the eyes.

"Donia! No!" cried both Jess and Harry at the same time.

"Don't beat up my best friend!" pleaded Harry.

"Don't ask him! It's none of our business!" hissed Jess.

"No! I'm _making_ it my business; I _need to know_!" yelled the Slytherin muggle. "RON WEASLEY…ARE YOU GOING OUT WITH HERMIONE GRANGER?"

Silence.

Odd expressions of disgust appeared on both Ron's and Hermione's faces. Their noses wrinkled and foreheads scrunched up and their mouths twisted and turned unhappily.

"No." they both finally spat.

The muggles stood there, absolutely dumfounded.

"NO?" Jess and Steph sputtered.

"No!" repeated Ron.

"THERE! _THERE_! THANK YOU! _THANK YOU_ VERY MUCH!" cried Donia in hysterical jubilation.

"Wait…"Harry interjected. "You thought…Ron was going out with Hermione?"

"I'm not dating Hermione." Blinked Ron still in shock.

"THEN WILL SOMBODY PLEASE TELL KATIE BEFORE SHE RUNS HERSELF TO BRITON!" howled Donia grabbing handfuls of her own hair.

Steph gently wrapped her arms around Donia's elbows effectively preventing her from scratching her own eyes out, despite the bucking and struggling.

"You…Katie thought…?"

"Oh no! No wonder she's been acting so strange around us…" Harry shook his head in wonder at the mess.

"Well, he has to find her! Ron you have to find her!" said Hermione.

"You can't find her now! She's gone! Goooone! GOOOOONNE!" wailed Donia frothing at the mouth and still bucking against Steph's iron like grip. "And you all thought I was crazy! CRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAZZZZZYYYYYYYY! HA!"

"Gone?" Hermione quivered. "Where?"

"Wherever Sarah's going." replied Jess.

"Where's Sarah going?" asked Harry. "And when'll she be back?"

"We don't know, in both cases," answered Steph.

"Though, 'dawn' seems likely to answer your second question," muttered Jess.

"And 'any place they sell alcoholic beverages' seems likely to answer your first," Donia piped.

* * *

"Thash jush it, Sharah," slurred Katie, thumping her butterbeer mug down on the counter for the sixth time that night. Some of the golden liquid in it sloshed over the side on to her hand. "Thash jush it! I _like_ 'im! I **LIKE** 'im! Even though he'sh a mean, mean, meanie!"

"Uuuuurgh," groaned Sarah. Katie hadn't seen her face for nearly an hour, now. Around halfway through her eighth pint, her head had fallen on to the bar's polished wood surface and since then, her speech had been little more than groans and grunts.

"I mean, I know you actually feel…hic!… nasty about what choo did to…to the twinsh and all…but I shink I feel much worshe. I feel…hic!…I feel…._Reeeally drunk!_ What'sh in thish shtuff, anyway, Sharah?" asked Katie, frowning unsteadily at the half full pint-mug in her fist. She held it as far as she could then brought it close enough to touch her nose, trying to find a middle ground that would hopefully bring the butterbeer into focus. "What'sh in thish?"

Sarah peeled her face off the counter and slowly straightened up, trying to stay on her bar stool. "Butter…" she burped.. "Beer…"

"Tha'sh it?" Katie's eyebrows almost hit her hairline with surprise. "Heavy shtuff, this butterbeer. How'd they let the younger shtudents drink it?"

"…aaaaand Demon Fireball wisky." Added Sarah.

"Oh! Well, that explainsh the little fireball demon," Katie nodded, studying the little flaming person running around the bottom of her mug with great fondness.

The little demon appeared to be completely engulfed in warm, golden flames, except that he was happily running around and crying "Yippee!" or "Hurray!" and occasionally curling up into a perfect sphere and rolling around at the bottom of the beer.

"Shay, Sharah?" Katied wondered aloud. "What _are_ you going to do about hic! about the twinsh…and…shtuff…."

"I'm going toooooo….don't know." replied her friend, swaying so far backwards she almost fell off her stool.

"I say, you two," Madame Rosmerta finally approached them. "Now I've catered to you because you came in with the twins last time, Sarah, and they usually bring in reliable clientel. Or clientel that can handle the drink at least," She eyed the bleary eyed girls warily. "But the thought of cutting you both off is starting to look really appealing to me."

"No!" wailed Katie. "Don't cut ush off! We're not even buzzed yet! I want to get at least half drink…_drunk…_before we head back to Hogwarts!"

"What house are you two in, anyway?" Rosmertta looked sufficiently suspicious all of a sudden.

"HUfflepuff!" answered Sarah 'I'm-An-Even-Better-Liar-When-I'm-Drunk' Ogle.

"Hogwarts!" cried Katie happily. "Though techinicha-nichally… that'sh a castle!"

"Yes, but what house _are_ you _in_, dear?" Rosmertta asked again. Sarah noticed that at least half the bar was beginning to turn and stare at them now.

"I don't really have a house coz I'm a mug…"

"Gryffindor!" yelled Sarah. "She's a Gryffindor! Just like the twins! Isn't she a joker? Hahahahahahahaha!"

Rosmertta stared at them for all of two seconds before making her final decision. "That's it," she said. "I'm cutting you off. Pay your bill and get out, please."

The girls pouted but Madame Rosmertta was not letting up. "And don't get caught creeping back into the castle, you two!" she yelled after them as they walked out into the cold October night. "Minerva will rip a chunk off me if she catches a Gryffindor coming back in that sort of shape from _my _establishment…"

The door swung shut behind the two muggles, mildly reminiscent of all the different metaphorical and literal doors that had been closed to them, lately.

Standing outside, in bleak and darkened Hogsmead, their heads began to clear slightly, thanks to the suddenly nippy weather.

Sarah put her hand into the front flap of her cloak and managed to retrieve a crumpled packet of cigarettes from within.

"I thought you quit last year," murmured Katie, lifting her shoulders up to keep her ears warm.

* * *

_And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the end of this chapter of Purple Bulleye! Here's a sneak peek atChapter 8:_

Something funny was happening to the picture.

Though there had always been a breeze blowing his mum's hair and wafting the lily she held, there had never been any real movement or change of expression in _this_ picture. Just his Mum, standing in the breezy sunlight, looking honestly into the camera with her namesake.

But now, for the first time in his life, Harry could see a change of expression in the photo. He blinked rapidly and opened his eyes even wider to see properly.

Yes, she definitely _was_ smiling at him, now. But it wasn't a goofy, happy smile like the ones in the rest of the album. This was different. It was a mischievous grin, a secretive smile that bordered on wicked.

Harry felt _more _than a little alarmed. Mr. Weasley had always said, "If you can't see where it keeps its brain, don't trust it." Especially after Ginny's episode in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry had developed a slight suspicion, (if not a _great apprehension_) for things that weren't _supposed_ to be sentient, but were.

And now his mother's picture, her _serious_ picture, was _grinning_ back at him.

Neville, his pathways blocked by his beazelbub heather allergy, grunted loudly in his sleep. Lilly giggled quietly.

Harry felt panic rise up inside him and tried to straighten up away from the album, but found that he couldn't. His back just wouldn't comply. He tried to cry out for Ron, too, but all that he managed to hear himself make was a low moan.

"Ssshhhhh!" hissed Lily, her fingers going up to her lips. The background in the picture, the sky, the trees, the grass and flowers, was fading fast into a kind of vast, grey cloudiness. Soon, it was just Lilly, standing before him in her school robes, as if she'd never graduated.

"Harry," she murmured suddenly. "Have you ever been to the zoo?"


	8. Fracture IV: Indifference?

_AAAAAAAAANNNNNND... Drum roll cymbal...CHAPTER 8!_

_Once again I'd like to thank M-m-m-my Sherona! (No, I'm kidding.) I'd really like to thank Katie, Liv, Sorcha and Fefu. I'd also like totake my hat off to Phorcys (the technological battle will come! It will come!) and HeveanSentHellBroken (I hope that's how you write it!) for her review. :)_

_No sneak peak at the end of this chapter, I'm afraid. Not enough of CHapter nine is written for there to be an interesting part yet. But...a chapter plan is at the end of this chapter. What's a chapter plan? Read it!_**

* * *

**

Chapter 8. Fracture IV: Indifference?

Harry was overwhelmed with how relieved he felt when Ron finally fell asleep. The Gryffindor common room had been in a great upheaval thanks to the stormy happenings between Katie (the Cool Gryffindor Muggle) and Ron Weasley (the Arse Apparent).

Rumors were flying everywhere.

Ron was _still_ in fact dating Hermione and had cheated on her.

Ron had been going out with the muggle and she'd caught him and Hermione snogging.

Ron was leading both Hermione _and_ Katie on, and was in fact having a fling with the succubus haunting the hallways down by the kitchens.

Katie and Hermione were lesbian lovers and Ron was objecting to the relationship, standing in the way of_ two hot Gryffindor girls actively snogging in the Gryffindor common room FOR ALL TO SEE AND APPRECIATE!_

Seamus had gleaned plenty of funny looks after suggesting that last one.

It had taken nearly all evening to set the record straight with everyone in Gryffindor house, and even then, most people weren't interested in the truth. The concept of scandal was much more entertaining.

Parvati and Lavender still threw Ron dirty looks, despite the fact that Harry had done his best to make sure everyone had heard the true story about a hundred times over.

Even the preoccupied twins took time out of their Sarah-hunting to call, "Hey Casanova!" over at their little brother when it was least suitable.

In short, Ron's reputation was soiled, to say the least, and people were now treating him as they saw fit to treat the hussy he was.

Which, Harry knew, was no hussy at all.

But finally, the hysterical keening of "Why me? Why is it always _me_?" finally died down and Ron's snoring finally emerged, mingling with the steam engine rumble from poor, allergy-ridden Neville, and the more gentle buzzing from Dean and Seamus.

Harry reached over to his bedside table and pulled the photo album Hagrid had given him, in his first year, into his lap. He fingered the leather binding. It had already been well-loved when he'd received it; now the leather was turning papery and curling away from the edges, revealing a thin sheeting of pine wood beneath.

He sighed. He'd have to get it repaired when he went into Hogsmeade, next week. Hermione had offered to get it replaced for him, but Harry wanted to keep the original cover. She had given him her 'Sad' look, when he'd said that. It irritated him slightly. Couldn't he be sentimental without pity, for once? Besides, it wasn't completely sentimentalism. The leather was dragon skin. It would last forever, with a couple of stitches to hold the corners together.

Harry opened the album carefully, cherishing the dried snapping sound it made as the spine bent to his will for the umpteenth time.

He yawned till his jaw popped. It had been a rather…_eventful_…day.

Then, he smiled.

There was his Mum. And his Dad. Waving and smiling, with Baby-Harry in his Dad's arms.

Harry leaned forward and grimaced through his glasses. The more tired he got, the worse his eyesight got.

James Potter grinned at his son sheepishly, as though to apologize for genetics, and shrugged, pushing his own thick rimmed glasses back. Baby-Harry instantly cooed curiously and made a grab for them, elbowing James in the nose as he did so. For a moment, James looked in a mess, trying to keep both his arms beneath his boisterous one-year-old's bottom and trying not to lose his sorely needed glasses.

Lilly began to laugh, her eyes twinkling up at Harry as she studiously ignored her husband and one year old. Harry found himself laughing quietly too. His father seemed so, so young. _How old would they both be in the photo,_ he wondered. Not much older than he was right now. Harry felt a sudden sympathy for his father. Having a one-year-old must have been quite the commitment.

Harry turned the page. Remus Lupin was in both the photos in this one. In the first, he was desperately trying to leave the picture frame, but Lilly had grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and was forcefully dragging him back into the photo. He relented, staggering back in, blushing furiously beneath the new, raw scars on his face.

James was still fighting with Baby-Harry for his glasses.

In the third photo, Lilly had her arms around Lupin's neck, her lips firmly planted on his scabbed cheeks as he finally broke into a huge smile at the camera.

James had lost his glasses to his son.

He was looking mildly horrified as Baby-Harry ambitiously attempted to stuff them (lenses first) into his mouth.

Sirius Black was in the fourth picture. This made Harry's throat hitch and, for a second, he couldn't swallow. The image was tainted for him. He used to derive so much pleasure from looking at the photos of his ruffian godfather with his parents.

Ever since Sirius had fallen through The Veil, though…

Harry felt a familiar ache in his stomach as he watched Sirius gently take Baby-Harry from James, placing the precious toddler on his shoulder as he carefully pulled his best friend's glasses from between pudgy fingers.

James put his hand out to take the glasses from Sirius. Sirius made to offer them to James, then quickly snatched them away, putting them into his own mouth, licking the lenses with copious amounts of saliva just as Baby-Harry had done. James gaped at Sirius, disgust obvious on his face, as Lupin looked mildly horrified and Lilly began to laugh hysterically.

In the next photo, Sirius and James had come to blows, grabbing each other by the shirts and hair, trying desperately to put one another in a headlock. Lupin, looking very irritated, had rescued Baby-Harry and has walking away with him, yelling something about 'irresponsibility' back at the other two. Lilly was bent over, at the edge of the picture, tears pouring down her face as she attempted not to explode with mirth.

The next picture brought a different kind of lump to Harry's throat. His mother had switched with the photographer…

And Peter Pettigrew was now in the pictures.

There, he stood, between Sirius and James, tidy, compared to their disheveled-ness, cheeks sagging a little beneath piggy eyes. Lupin stood to Sirius' left with Harry still cooing comfortably in his arms. They all looked more serious than in the previous pictures. In fact, Peter looked more than a little scared, his lip quivering and his eyes blinking repeatedly. James looked determined, his gaze steady through his rather smudged glasses. Lupin's lips were pursed worriedly, his gaze saddened, his protective grip on his friend's son a little tighter than it had been previously.

Sirius looked arrogant and rebellious, his eyes steely, his nose tipped upwards, his overdue hair brushing his shoulders, his jaw pulsating.

Harry could sense the tension in this photo. Their way of life was being threatened. They were barely out of school and they were scared.

_A doomed generation,_ thought Harry suddenly over-whelmed with depression. _My parents never had a chance at happiness. All they ever wanted to do was live normally; to fall in love and have children and houses with gardens and family dinners. _

_They couldn't have it, though. The married one didn't live to see his son grow up, the rebellious one got thrown into Azkaban, and the lonely one got left alone with his curse again._

_And the coward? _Harry stared at Pettigrew's nervous face. _The coward lived as a pet rat before resuming his painful role as traitor._

And what about Harry's mother; the mudblood girl?

He turned the page and there she was, all alone, in the picture, holding up a white lily to her throat. She too looked serious, but it was a different type of serious. There was a sort of serene strength in it that impressed her lonely son as he studied her face by lamplight.

Had this muggle-born girl known what she was getting into when she put her money in with the Hogwarts' troublemakers? When she'd finally chosen to stop ignoring James Potter, Hogwarts Show-Off, and actually fallen in love with him?

_Of course she'd known,_ thought Harry defiantly. _My mother was no fool. Neither was she a coward. She wasn't going to throw away all chances of a normal life just because she was worried Voldemort would come after her one day. In fact, she'd be fine, right now if Peter hadn't 'petty grew'. _

_Marrying Dad didn't kill her; Voldemort did. _

And she'd died terrified.

Harry couldn't help thinking that those who die unwittingly, (being hit by a bus while crossing the wrong way or getting shot in a botched up robbery) missed most of the terror of death. One moment you were alive, then the next you weren't.

But Lilly Evans-Potter had been terrified. She'd been forced to make the choice no creature on the planet should have to make: it was either her own life, or her baby's.

He leaned even closer, bending almost double in bed to get a better look at his mother's face. Usually, it was the fact that his mother and himself had been separated so early on that maddened him, but tonight…tonight he felt sorry for the person she'd been before she'd become his mother. What plans had Voldemort killed with her? What capacity for good?

Harry wondered what she would sound like if she could speak to him. He'd heard her once, in Snape's pensive, screaming at his father and Sirius for bullying the adolescent potions' master.

Well, at least he knew what she'd looked like, with her long, straight red hair and the green eyes that he'd inherited. His mother had been pretty; it made him proud.

Something funny was happening to the picture.

Though there had always been a breeze blowing his mum's hair and wafting the lily she held, there had never been any real movement or change of expression in _this_ picture. Just his Mum, standing in the breezy sunlight, looking honestly into the camera with her namesake.

But now, for the first time in his life, Harry could see a change of expression in the photo. He blinked rapidly and opened his eyes even wider to see properly.

Yes, she definitely _was_ smiling at him, now. But it wasn't a goofy, happy smile like the ones in the rest of the album. This was different. It was a mischievous grin, a secretive smile that bordered on wicked.

Harry felt _more _than a little alarmed. Mr. Weasley had always said, "If you can't see where it keeps its brain, don't trust it." Especially after Ginny's episode in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry had developed a slight suspicion, (if not a _great apprehension_) for things that weren't _supposed_ to be sentient, but were.

And now his mother's picture, her _serious_ picture, was _grinning_ back at him.

Neville, his pathways blocked by his beazelbub heather allergy, grunted loudly in his sleep. Lilly giggled quietly.

Harry felt panic rise up inside him and tried to straighten up away from the album, but found that he couldn't. His back just wouldn't comply. He tried to cry out for Ron, too, but all that he managed to hear himself make was a low moan.

"Ssshhhhh!" hissed Lily, her fingers going up to her lips. The background in the picture, the sky, the trees, the grass and flowers, was fading fast into a kind of vast, grey cloudiness. Soon, it was just Lilly, standing before him in her school robes, as if she'd never graduated.

"Harry," she murmured suddenly. "Have you ever been to the zoo?"

Harry was at a loss for words. Should he reply? Did he _want_ to reply? Was it safe to reply?

"O-O-once," he finally stammered. "For Dudley's birthday…"

"Oh, yes Dudley," his mother mused. "Is he still a porker, I wonder?"

"Um…" Harry almost felt an upward twitch at the corner of his own lips. "Yeah, he's still pretty big."

"Do you like animals, Harry?" she asked kindly. As she asked this, her wizard's robes suddenly exploded into a puff of purple smoke. When the smoke cleared and Harry could see her again, she was dressed as a circus Ring Master, top hat, red tails, whip and all.

Harry stopped to consider the question. All things considered, yes he did. Fang liked him. And Buckbeak the hippogriff. In fact the only animal he'd never gotten along with was Aunt Marge's bulldog, Ripper.

Reptiles _really_ liked him.

Oh, except for the basilisk.

And Nagini.

And the dragon he'd gone up against in the Triwizard's Tournament.

Then again, there was the giant spiders that tried to eat him and Ron in the Forbidden Forrest. Oh, and Fluffy, the three headed dog, who also attempted to eat him and his friends in first year.

"No," he finally replied.

"Really?" Lilly looked slightly disappointed. "That's a shame. I find animals a lot less malicious than humans. They're so much easier to understand."

She cracked her whip. A great, big circus ring began to appear out of the fog, filled with the warm glows and odors of a huge circus fair. The roar of an audience that was outside of Harry's scope suddenly exploded form behind him, reminding him of quidditch.

"Brrrrrrrring out the animals!" she cried.

Harry watched as four clowns began wheeling in four huge cages, hidden under red, green, yellow and blue velvet awnings.

He looked back at his mother, only to find that she was undergoing yet another change. Her hair was beginning to coil up into tight, corkscrew curls. Her eyes were going a very pale shade of blue, her nose getting pointier, her skin becoming pale to translucency before a sprinkling of freckles began bleeding on to it.

The ring master had become Stephanie Lalonde, but when she spoke again, she still spoke with his mother's voice. "Pick one," she invited, nodding her head towards the covered cages.

Harry was completely baffled by this point. Randomly, he picked the cage underneath the red awning.

"Brrrrrrrrilliant!" howled Stephanie/ Lilly. The crowd crashed like ocean waves. "Godric!" The clown-attendant next to the cage lifted his head. "Reveal……_The Cat_!" The clown did so, grabbing the end of the red awning and hauling it off in one billow.

The animal in the cage was not a cat at all.

It was Katie…in a lion costume.

Her face was painted skillfully and the headdress was magnificent, not to mention the cute little leotard, the tail with the tuft on the end, the fake silver claws and the plastic fangs. She stalked around the cage languidly, roaring quite convincingly and flicking her tail lazily.

"We're going to need an AUDIENCE MEMBER!" the ringmaster cried.

Harry looked at the audience. They were fighting to get out to the central ring, pulling one another back and tripping each other up. Finally though, someone was propelled into the open.

It was Peter Pettigrew and he looked exceedingly afraid of the ringmaster.

"Come forward, sir, please! Come forward!" encouraged the ringmaster, impatiently. Then, she turned to talk to Harry. Her face had melded back into his mother's face, with the long straight red hair, the green eyes and firm expression, as opposed to Steph's rather seductive one.

"Cats…"she said. "Are very special."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Because, Harry…"she replied. "They have an attitude. They can be very nurturing, very loving companions, but they're also ruthlessly independent. Their appetites are insatiable."

As she said this, Katie the Lion rubbed up against the closer bars of the cage. Harry watched her fur ripple against the iron bars as a deep, bone-shaking purr erupted from the large feline's throat. Though it was a sound of contentment, it was anything _but_ loving and nurturing. As she passed him, the Katie-Lion flung him a secret look that reeked of hidden intentions from beneath her black lashes.

Her pupils were slit.

Harry swallowed nervously and saw Peter Pettigrew begin to shiver violently with fear.

"…Everyone knows," continued the ringmaster, morphing back into Steph again. "Everyone knows that the best way to make friends with a cat is to feed it."

Upon saying that, Harry suddenly saw the cage door swing open slowly. He yelled out half a warning before the rest of his breath was stolen in surprise at what the ringmaster did next. Quickly, morphing into Lilly, once more, she reached across and shoved Peter up the steps and into the cage, slamming the door closed behind him.

There was no lock on the cage door. Harry hadn't even known there was a _door_ before it had swung open. Now, it seemed to have vanished, once again. Peter howled with fear, tears coursing down his cheeks, pounding at the place where the door had been. He turned and saw that his cowardice had attracted the giant feline's attention. It was stalking him, now.

Quickly, Peter turned himself into a tiny rat. Harry almost thought that the animagus would have time to slip between the bars and away to safety.

_The Cat_ had other plans. With a snarl of playfulness, she pounced on to the rat, trapping him beneath her paws. Pettigrew squealed furiously as she picked him up by the tail, swinging on the end of the worm-like appendage, trying to climb up himself and bite the lion's fingers.

Katie looked at her prey with a slight smile and narrowed eyes.

Then, she opened her mouth and dropped the rat into it.

One gulp and he was gone and that was the end of that. Not even a burp of satisfaction. She just went on pacing, as if something as pathetically trivial as Pettigrew could not even put a dent in her appetite.

The audience gasped and screamed in horror. Then, clapping and cheering erupted from the stands, as if someone had just performed a death-defying leap from the tent top and had landed gracefully.

"Isn't it a _darling_, ladies and gentlemen?" called the ringmaster ( who'd turned back into Steph), sticking her arm into the cage and scratching beneath the lion's chin as she held out her top hat with her other hand, greeting the audience. "Isn't it a _darling?_ Oh well, we musn't linger! NEXT!"

They moved onto the next cage. It was the one covered with the yellow awning. "Helga!" cried the ringmaster. This clown was a woman with an upside-down smile and a huge bright orange wig that reminded Harry of the Ronald McDonald commercials he watched when he was back with the Dursleys. "Reveal….._The Badger_!"

For a moment, Harry thought that there really was a giant badger in _this_ cage. Then, the creature looked up from the truffles it had been munching on and grinned at him. It was Sarah, in face paint again, like Katie had been.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaw!" cooed the crowd, clapping sweetly.

"Yeeeees," called the ringmaster. "Cute little buggers, aren't they? But trust me, ladies and gentlemen, trust me! Though badgers like to be left alone to their own lives, most of the time, they who invade a badger's burrow come to nothing but a bad end! May we have a VOLUNTEER, please!"

Harry watched with mounting horror as the crowd convulsed and bucked like a sack full of piglets. Sarah the Badger sat where she was, gripping a truffle in her little clawed paws and laughing merrily to herself. Harry wondered what was so funny until he saw the audience member that the roiling mass in the stands had finally vomited.

Lucius Malfoy had been propelled, as if spat, from his seat in the front row.

"This…" Harry murmured, going a little green around the gills. "This…is getting a little weird for me, Mum…"

"Trust me, Harry," said the ringmaster softly. He was surprised to find her standing at his shoulder protectively. Then, her face wriggled again, flipping back into Steph's mischievous mug, and she said, "You'll enjoy _this_ part…"

Then, turning back to the 'volunteer', she cried, "Come forward, please sir. Chop chop; we don't have all day…"

"I'm coming." hissed Lucius venomously, fixing his disheveled robes and tossing back his impeccable hair.

The Badger chortled and blew a raspberry at his impertinence, tossing a moldy truffle at him from between the bars. It smacked right into the white shirt he was wearing beneath his black robes, leaving a nasty, oil-green smear all along his front.

"Hey! Stop that you fucking bitch!" came a voice from behind Harry. The audience made a noise of anger as Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy fighting against the hands that sought to restrain him, trying his hardest to wrestle his way to his father.

"You're next." Promised Lilly with a steely look, pointing at Draco with her whip.

Malfoy Jr. blanched considerably and sat back down in his front row chair.

Harry turned back to what was happening in the ring itself.

"Open the door, Helga!" demanded the Ringmaster.

Once again, the audience volunteer was tossed into the cage with the ferocious animal. Unlike Peter Pettigrew, though, Lucius Malfoy did not in the least seem perturbed by the giant Badger. He stood where he was, with a sneer of contempt on his face, still trying to rub off the rotten truffle smear on his shirt.

Sarah the Badger blew another raspberry in his direction. Harry noticed that her physique had changed though. She'd been merrily rolling around the bottom of her cage while Lucius was _outside_ her domain. Now, she was sitting up, still clutching a truffle mind you, but very humanly sitting up on her bottom, with her legs spread out before her, her eyes firmly fixed on the man in her 'burrow', as it were.

Lucius did not seem to notice this change in behavior, or if he did, he did not seem to think it significant. He advanced confidently on the badger.

"NO!" cried Harry.

"Too late," tutted Stephanie, studying the flaking leather on her whip as if it were suddenly immensely absorbing.

In a flash of movement, the badger had shot out of its corner, teeth flashing, snarling like a fiend, claws extended as it leapt onto Lucius and began nipping and scratching at him.

"AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" cried Lucius, arms flailing desperately as the badger began pulling his robes over his head.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" cried the audience, getting to their feet with excitement and flinging popcorn enthusiastically.

"No! Father! Father!" screamed Draco, frantically struggling to get out of the clutches of the random people that seemed to be holding him back.

Harry looked back at the cage. Lucius, howling with utter rage and humiliation, was hanging from the ceiling bars by his cloak _and_ hair. Rotten truffle and…_ worse things_…were smeared all over his face and shirt, and the 'Badger' seemed to have relieved him of his trousers. Harry was quite amazed to find that Lucius Malfoy, in _this_ screwed up reality at any rate, wore Deatheater boxer shorts, with the Dark Mark printed all over them in a cheesy repeating pattern.

"Aaaah!" nodded the ringmaster as the audience began to murmur scandalously. "He shows his true colours…"

Laughter exploded from the stands. Harry, too, caught himself enjoying the show. Sarah the Badger gave Lucius a final snort of disgust before going back to her favorite corner and picking up another truffle.

Clapping erupted from the stands again. Harry joined in willingly.

"Thank you! Thank you!" ringmaster Lilly smiled placidly at her adoring audience. "And now, for MORE AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION!"

As promised, it was Draco Malfoy who came flying out of the pews next. He was virtually thrown out, not vomited or spat like the previous two volunteers. Harry suspected it was because of the furious fight Draco put up in resistance.

Draco picked himself up, but didn't bother to dust himself off, like his father had done. Instead, he stood where he was, quivering either with fear or rage or both, staring hatefully up at the ringmaster.

_Bastard,_ thought Harry maliciously in his direction. If love was from the heart and hate was from the gall bladder, Draco Malfoy possessed a special little place in the deepest, darkest most acidic corner of Harry Potter's slimy little bile duct. _Hope you get it worst of all…_

For a moment, nothing happened. The audience fell silent abruptly.

The ringmaster had turned back into Lilly Potter. There was that serene, strong look on her face again, like the one in the original photo that had spawned this strange…dream? Vision? What was this, anyway?

"Come here," she demanded coldly.

Draco surprised Harry and advanced, coming to a stand still only a foot from the ringmaster.

Malfoy's face was very pale. He looked like he might pass out.

"You're a nasty little boy, aren't you?" Lilly said quietly, bending at the waist slightly so she could see right into his face.

"I hate to break it to you, love, but I'm no little boy," sneered Draco. "I'm bloody sixteen years old, is what I am…"

"Watch your language." She snapped.

He fell silent.

"You constantly behave like a little boy, "she replied, straightening up and studying her whip with neutrality again. "You pick on my son…"

"Yeah, well, have you looked at him lately? He's very 'pick-on-able'." Draco leered at Harry.

The audience growled its displeasure. It was all Harry could do not to run forward and beat Malfoy's face in.

Lilly raised her hand and the noise died instantly.

Then, she said, "I think he's perfect."

"Yeah well, that's why the saying goes, 'A face that only a mother could love', I guess," replied Draco.

Again, the audience buzzed with hatred. Again, Harry felt his own rage rise in his throat and choke him.

And again, Lilly Potter would have none of it.

"It's hard on you that _your_ parents don't think your perfect, isn't it?" she said softly.

Draco blinked in shock for a moment, then went bright red with restrained fury. "At least I _HAVE_ parents!" he spat. He was shaking violently, fists clenched till his knuckles were white.

Some small, unacknowledged part of Harry began to feel a little sorry for Malfoy, which only made the rest of him hate the boy more and more.

"GET 'IM!" screamed audience members.

"BRING 'IM DOWN!" cried another.

Harry began to hope that Lilly had something really nasty in store for Draco; and for a moment, it seemed that way. He also began to secretly hope that she'd hurry up with Draco's punishment before he, Harry, could change his mind.

"Do you like…_sssssssssssnakes_?" she hissed suddenly, smiling wickedly at Malfoy.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" roared the audience.

"No!" spat Malfoy, blanching as fast as he'd gone red. "I hate snakes!"

"That's a shame," said Lilly, not too sadly. "Because _Snakes_ _like **you**_…"

She gestured to the green covered cage. The clown next to it, in a green checkered jester's costume, also with an upside-down smile, stepped forward. "Salazar?" she purred. "Please reveal…our _Snake."_

The green velvet awning flew off the cage. Gasps could be heard from the audience behind Harry. He just stared.

There did not seem to be a beginning or an end to the gigantic coils of gleaming, mosaic leather piled all over the bottom of this cage. For a moment, Harry felt terror rise inside him as memories of the basilisk came flooding into his brain.

But though this also seemed like a ridiculously large reptile, it was no where near the size of the basilisk. It wasn't a dull, grey green color either. This snake was a beautiful working of deep forest green covered with arabesque patterns of sea blue and emerald.

It moved, uncoiling. Where its head should have been, there was revealed the back top half of a woman. The scales faded when they reached her waist, turning into a deep olive complexion. The patterns extended onto her skin though, painted painstakingly so that Harry was unsure whether it was war paint, or just the natural patterning of this…Snake woman. Long drealocks of green hair cascaded over the shoulders and down past the snaky hips. It was only when she turned that Harry realized that the dreadlocks weren't in fact dreadlocks at all, but billions of smaller, writhing snakes.

Green eyes flashed at him from beneath a green widow's peak. It was Donia.

"Reptiles have a bad reputation," said Steph the ringmaster suddenly. "The fact is: they make amazingly good pets, so long as they're used to you, and you treat them well and, of course, you keep them well fed…."

She leaned forward and shoved Draco into the magically opening cage. He cried out with fear, but stood his ground when he found himself face to face with the woman/snake. Her long hair writhed and hissed excitedly, coiling around her patterned biceps, strategically covering her nakedness.

"This specific species, our Boa Constrictor here, is a particularly choosy snake, though. It all really depends on what she feels like," murmured Steph.

Draco cried out as one of the many thick loops of snake suddenly found its way around his legs. He would have fallen over if another loop of Boa constrictor hadn't suddenly coiled upwards, propping him up, despite his lack of legs, and keeping him facing the female torso of the thing. More coils wrapped themselves around his knees, then his thighs, then his hips. He fought and scratched and flailed but he failed. She picked him up as easily as Harry had seen real snakes pick up baby monkeys on television.

The audience didn't make a sound.

Everyone was waiting for the big moment.

A coil wrapped itself around Draco's neck so that he was finally pinned immobile and vulnerable. There was nothing he could do except look straight up at the descending figure of the approaching woman/snake.

Harry suddenly realized that he really didn't want Draco to die. "Mum…"he began.

"Sssssssh!" hissed Steph. "Don't make a sound. You could kill him."

Finally, the Donia- Constrictor was face to face with Malfoy. Her eyes roamed over him, seeming to look for something. A long, thin, black tongue suddenly snapped out of her mouth and rattled at his face, before retreating back between her lips. This was repeated several times, with her hair beginning to mimic her, each individual snake sticking its tongue out to 'smell' Malfoy, as it were.

Draco whined uncomfortably. He had no doubts that the coil around his neck could end everything in a split second.

But something else was happening to him as well. Though his arms were free, he had stopped flailing. Harry thought for a moment that Malfoy was being strangled by the boa and was getting weak. Then, he saw Malfoy's eyes. They seemed heavy lidded, all of a sudden, the pupils black and large, the grey irises nothing but a thin rim around each one.

Then, Harry noticed that the Boa had stopped hissing at her prey and was actually smiling at him. It wasn't a frightening smile either, but a slow, almost shy, almost flirtatious quirk of the lips. The Snake's hand came out suddenly and stroked Malfoy's cheek soothingly.

"AAAAAAAAAWWWWWWW…."cooed the audience softly.

"Well, that's an odd turn of events," said the ringmaster. Steph didn't look too surprised though, just a little thoughtful.

The snake woman uncoiled from around Malfoy's neck, but instantly began looping herself around his arms and elbows. He might be docile, but it was plain to see that _this_ snake was not giving her prey any chances to flee. Finally, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders gently and brought her poisonous mouth to Draco's.

Somehow, Harry realized that Draco had now completely lost all hope of ever escaping the snake.

"Her venom's strong, that one," nodded the ringmaster as both the snake and her object of affection vanished into the writhing heap of green coils once more.

"I thought you said she was a boa. They're not poisonous…" said Harry, confused.

"This one is," snorted Steph.

The audience murmured, quietly intrigued by what had just happened.

"Ah well," sighed Steph, not at all lingering. "Moving on. What've we got left?" A blue clad female clown stepped forward. "Oh."

Harry heard the sudden sadness in the ringmaster's tone and looked up. It was his mother's face again, that peered back at him. "Rowena…" she said softly.

The audience began to cheer and clap.

"I think we'll let Harry do this one!" she yelled suddenly.

"_WHAT!"_ He stared at her in horror. _I knew this was a bad dream! I knew it! **"NO**_! Mum!"

"Rowena!" cried his mother, ignoring his horrified expression of betrayal. "Please reveal…" Silence. Anticipation. "…our _Bird_."

Unlike with the rest of the animals, the clown keeper didn't skillfully haul the awning off the cage, but instead pulled it off gently from one of the corners.

The deep, velvety, blue cloth fell away.

A woman in a dress stood in the cage, with her back to Harry. He could see the beautiful sleek blue lilac hair coiled into a 'do' with a golden clasp that vaguely resembled a sea shell…or a bird's crest.

Her dress left her shoulders and arms bare, but you could hardly tell it because her skin was almost the same deep blue as the satin the bodice was made of. From the waist down, the dress seemed to fountain out and spread behind her in a huge train of windsor, green and purple peacock's feathers. The round golden circles near the bottom of each 'feather' in the skirt stared at Harry like the eyes of the Katie-lion.

The Bird turned slowly, skirts rustling as they swished behind her, like she wore a bustle or massive amounts of petticoats.

The audience 'Oooooohed' and 'Aaaaaaaaaahed' in wonder.

As Harry had suspected, the Bird had Jess' face. Her large,teal eyes gazed at him out of her blue face and the purple bullseye on her forehead seemed suitably reminiscent of the golden circles on her tail.

"Go on," encouraged Lilly, giving him a gentle push. "Go up to the cage and look."

"Um…do I have to go inside?" Harry asked worriedly.

"No," Lilly shook her head from side to side a little sadly. "You might tear some of the feathers out."

"Oh."

"But you may step closer."

He did, advancing slowly, afraid that he would startle this strange and regal creature. When he stood before the cage the Bird took a step forward, her tail swishing, so that she stood almost directly above him.

"Aah. You like birds." Remarked Lilly.

"I do," said Harry, thinking of Fawkes the Phoenix. Unthinkingly, he pushed his hand between the bars and began stroking the Bird's tail. Imagine his surprise when he discovered that the Bird's tail _was_ actually made of soft feathers.

The audience began to murmur again.

"Birds are special. They aren't very trusting creatures at all." said Lilly softly. "In order to have an intimate bird, it has to completely trust you, which means you have to put in a lot of gentle effort. Feeding it and keeping it clean isn't enough. It likes to feel free even when it knows that it is someone's pet."

"Why?" asked Harry, still stroking the bird's tail. He was surprised to see a little brown book open in the Jess-Bird's hands as if Harry and the audience had intruded upon its reading time.

"Well, birds fear dangerous situations more than any other creature in the animal kingdom, Harry. Even the most capable birds, like falcons or eagles have many reasons to fear the humans that approach them."

"Oh." Said Harry again.

"Time's up, Harry. Show's almost over…"

He pulled his hand back regretfully and turned to go when a movement caught his eye and he turned back to watch what the Bird was doing.

She held out a feather to him, offering him a perfect blue feather as the clown Rowena began to throw the blue velvet awning over the cage again. Harry reached out slowly, still afraid of startling her and took the feather gratefully. He was just in time; a moment after he'd withdrawn his hand from inside the cage, the awning fell forward, completely obscuring the Bird from view.

A moment after _that_, the circus noises stopped and the view itself began to fade into the grey cloudiness it had been before his mother had summoned the whole show out of nothingness. He turned to his mother to find her back in her school clothes again.

"Mum? What was the point of all that?" he asked her, holding up the feather to show her.

"You saw how powerful those animals were on their own, right?" Lilly said to him.

"Yes."

"Think how powerful they'd be united, Harry."

"The Houses, you mean?" replied Harry. "The Hogwarts Houses?"

"Maybe that's what I'm saying. Maybe it's not," said Lilly shrugging as she turned to go.

"Wait! Mum!" cried Harry rushing after her. "You want me to unite the houses! I can't do _that_! We HATE each other! No! **'Hate'** doesn't quite cover it!"

"I want you to like animals, Harry." said Lilly neutrally. "Oh, and another thing." She leaned in close and frowned at him. "Your father and I got married in the middle of a war. You're not even in a war yet."

"Yet! YET!"

"Just because people want to kill you doesn't mean that you should help them along and bury yourself in advance."

"_What?_"

"Life goes on, Harry. Don't anticipate problems before they happen and don't use Voldemort as an excuse for your fear of intimacy."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are…are…" he swallowed. " Are you telling me to get a _girlfriend_?"

"Something like that." She snapped, as the background of trees and grass and flowers began to reappear behind her. "Goodbye, baby…" Her voice sounded distant, suddenly. The lily appeared in her hand.

"No! Mum! Wait!" screamed Harry. _"MUUUUUUUUUM!"_

He sat up.

He was in bed, in his room, surrounded by the snoring of his roommates.

Ron snorted and coughed. "Harry?" he said groggily. "Harry? Are you having a Voldemort dream?"

"Um…" Harry hastily wiped away the string of saliva trailing down his chin and onto his parents' photo album. "Just…about my mother, Ron."

"Oh," burbled Ron. "Another one about her death…zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

He never heard Harry say, "Oddly enough … No."

* * *

It was eight a.m. in the morning, half an hour before the first class and, technically, everyone should have been getting ready to go down to breakfast.

The Weasley twins, though, were standing before the entry way to the Hufflepuff common room.

They knocked.

The painting swung aside a little. Two Hufflepuff second years peered out from the small gap.

"Yeah?" said the Hufflepuff boy.

"What do you mean 'Yeah'?" asked Fred insolently.

"Let us in." said George pushing forward.

"No." said the boy.

"What!" both twins barked.

"You can't come in," replied the second Hufflepuff warden, a girl.

"Since when?" cried Fred.

"Since the rules were instated." Hufflepuff boy frowned.

Fred: "What rules?"

George: "Who instated them?"

Hufflepuff girl: "Our leader."

George: "Who the Hell's your leader?"

For a second, the two Hufflepuff wardens looked slightly alarmed at this question.

Boy: "Um…Just…wait here a minute."

The painting swung shut. A hurried, whispered conference could be heard from behind the painting.

The twins frowned at one another.

"What's going on here, Fred?" asked George.

"I don't know, George." Replied Fred.

The painting swung open again. The same boy and girl peered out.

Fred: "_Now_ can you let us in?"

Girl: "No."

George: "Why!"

Girl: "We've got our orders!"

Fred: "Huh?"

Boy: "No visiting parties to be admitted into the Hufflepuff common room without valid permits distributed by the Almighty Presedenté of the Badgers' United Republican Party."

The twins stared at the two Hufflepufs.

Finally, Fred said, "Look, guys, we just want to talk to Sarah Ogle. So if you can bring her out here, that would be just fine, thanks."

Boy: "We can't do that."

George: _"Excuse me?"_

Girl: "Orders from La Presedenté."

Fred: "Who the HELL'S LA PRESEDENTÉ?"

Again, the boy and girl looked suddenly panicked, as if they didn't quite know how to reply to this question.

Boy: "Hang on."

The painting swung shut on the seething twins. Voices were raised in discussion on the other side, then a silence fell, indicating agreement of some sort. The painting swung open.

Boy: "I'm sorry but we can't disclose that information to those not involved in the Badgers' United Republican Party."

Fred: "This is complete rubbish!"

George: "Yeah! Don't you know who we are?"

Boy: "The Weasley Twins?"

Fred: "We're the _Weasley_ twins!"

George: "Rebel extrordinaires!"

Fred: "Creators of the Great Hallway Lake and Defeaters of Umbridge!"

George: "Protegés of Messers Wormtail, Mooney, Padfoot and Prongs!"

Fred: "Entrepreneurs of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!"

"Actually," said the Hufflepuf boy. "La Presedenté technically owns that, doesn't she?"

The Hufflepuf girl gasped with horror and scowled at her partner so fearsomely that he shrank back away from her.

Fred and George also gasped, but for a very different reason.

George: _"Sarah's La Presedenté!"_

Fred: "_Sarah!"_

The Hufflepuff girl turned her narrowed gaze back on to them.

"_That,_"she breathed. "…_WAS_…Highly classified information."

"Sarah's your political leader!" exclaimed Fred, still unable to get his mind around what was happening.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you to leave…" growled the girl.

"How did she do it? Did she throw a revolution or did you vote her into power?" asked George quickly, fascination lighting up his face _despite_ his knowledge that his window of opportunity to get any answers for the millions of questions racing through his head, right now, was quickly closing.

"The revolution," stated the girl coldly. "…has only just begun, Comrades. Have a nice day."

And the painting swung completely shut.

For a second the twins stood in total silence.

Then, they turned to look each other in the face. Excitement shone in their eyes.

"_Cooooool…"_ they both whispered.

* * *

"A-are they gone?" moaned Sarah quivering in the huge mustard yellow arm chair they'd set up in the middle of the vastly reorganized Hufflepuff common room to be her throne.

"Yes, Presedenté." confirmed the second year girl, bowing.

"OH thank God! Oh, Ahaaa! Aaaahaaaa! Ahahahahahahaaaaaa!" Sarah curled up into the fetal position on her throne and rolled over to nestle between the cushions. She distinctly reminded her followers of a crab trying to get under a shell.

"Presedenté?" said Hannah Abbot approaching out of the Shadows. "Why do you tolerate such impertinence from two who are….._so low_?" A look of mild disgust permeated her features as she spoke of the twins. "We could simply send out forces to eliminate them…"

"No! No, no! I don't want them eliminated! I just need to _avoid_ them until I've figured out what I'm going to say…What am I going to _say?_" She giggled hysterically again.

Her followers had the distinct impression that their dear Presedenté was cracking under the pressures of power.

* * *

"What's going on, here?" grumbled Steph as she approached the crowd milling before the doors to the Great Hall. "Can't a girl get some breakfast in this place without running into trouble?"

"Steph!" came the call from amidst the crowd to her left.

She turned to follow the source of the call. It was Donia, closely followed by Jess. Both of them looked pissed off…and worried.

"What's going on?" repeated Steph, this time with a hint of dread in her voice. _What now?_ She wondered. _Haven't we been through enough? Aren't our lives difficult enough as they are?_

"…fucking not fair!" snarled Donia as she shoved people out of her way, effectively clearing a pathway for herself and Jess.

"Have you seen this?" asked Jess calmly handing Steph a piece of paper.

Steph looked down at the parchment and realized that it was a bulletin, like the news bulletins they used to see hung up all over their own muggle school…back when their lives were normal. It was stamped by a funny looking seal at the bottom with a shield and a banner and funny looking little fonts that boldly stated 'Authorized By The Ministry of Magic'. It was the writing above the seal that really set Steph's teeth on edge, though.

It read:

_Dear Residents of Hogwarts,_

_In consideration of the many complaints recently filed concerning the presence of muggles at this school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it is hereby decreed that the Ministry of Magic wishes to call upon those who would come forth with statements concerning the behavior of the Non-Magical Protected Witnesses at Hogwarts School._

_Those wishing to make a statement are to appear before a tribunal which has been assembled, per request of an anonymous Good Samaritan, to evaluate the extent of harm and educational disruption resulting from the presence of Non-Magical entities. _

_All witnesses shall receive notices of the Ministry's gratitude for their involvement, regardless of the nature of their commentary._

_Let it be noted that should enough complaints be evoked without sufficient defense of the need to have these muggles at Hogwarts, then the tribunal shall order the lawful removal of said muggles from the school premises. _

_Minister of Magic,_

_Cornelius Fudge_

Steph finished reading the bulletin and slowly looked up at her friends, stunned into slow-motion.

"They want to kick us out!" fumed Donia as if maybe Steph had doubts about what the bulletin meant.

"Where did you get this?" asked Steph numbly holding up the paper.

"She tore it off the wall back there," Jess gestured back to the Great Hall doors. "There's loads of others, though. No one will miss them…"

"It's against the rules…"murmured Steph.

"So what? They're throwing us out anyway," Donia snarled.

"But that's _why_ they're throwing us out," she said quietly. "We broke too many rules…"

"Actually, that's not it at all, love," came the quiet whisper from right behind her.

Steph saw Donia's eyes widen and Jess' eyes narrow before she whisked around in fear.

A tall, blond boy, in a shirt that was loosely open at the throat with a stylishly, carelessly loosened Slytherin tie, was standing so close to her he startled her.

"Back away!" barked Jess ferociously.

"Hello, Lars," said Donia calmly.

Both Steph and Jess stopped abruptly and stared at their friend as if she'd sprouted rams' horns from her forehead. She wasn't attacking him? Why wasn't she attacking him? He was a Slytherin, wasn't he?

"See the whole 'Anonymous Good Samaritan' bit?" he murmured.

"Yeah?" frowned Donia.

"Well, a little birdie's been sending the ministry letters about how disruptive you've been to our education. Mostly outrageously untrue things too, since technically, you haven't really disrupted anything at all. Maybe a few breakfasts, but that's about it." Said the tall, blond Slytherin.

Steph and Jess stared at him, then at Donia. Then at him again, wondering who the hell he was.

"Who the Hell are you?" asked Jess.

"I'm Lars," said Lars, before turning his attention back to Donia. "Are you wondering why a Good Samaritan would want to be anonymous, yet?"

"No…" replied Donia pig-headedly.

"But I _am_," interjected Jess with interest.

"The obvious reason is…" began Lars.

"…The 'Good Samaritan' isn't good at all…" finished Steph.

"She'd get into a lot of trouble as if the ministry found out she'd sent the letter, right?" said Jess, feeling a moment of revelation.

"_He_." Corrected Lars.

"_He_? I assumed it was Madame Pince," Jess blinked.

"It's Lucius Malfoy," Lars stated flatly.

The three muggle girls looked straight at Lars and at no one else from the crowd that was milling around them noisily as they struggled to contemplate what this could mean.

"How do you know this?" asked Donia grimly.

"Draco was bragging in the changing room after Quidditch try-outs, yesterday." Answered Lars. He snorted suddenly, then muttered, "He actually brought that _child_, Tortuga, on to the team. Couldn't believe it…Just cause the weasel's a McNair and all…"

"Why would Lucius Malfoy get into trouble for complaining about us? I thought he was this huge politician and stuff?" interrupted Jess.

"Well, he _was_…till he attacked Potter and a few other students at the Ministry of Magic last year. He's supposed to be in jail…"

"But he's not." Donia nodded, finally understanding. "We ran into him in that alley that night with Voldemort."

"Exactly. He's hiding out. The Ministry suspects he's at his own home, Malfoy Manor, but they've already searched that place seven times and they've found nothing to indicate that Lucius Malfoy was still there. Still, though, that place is a warren. Built in Elizabethan England, you know…"

"Lars!" hissed Blaise Zabini hurrying over nervously. "Draco's coming!"

"Bye," he whispered turning away from them and walking in the opposite direction really quickly.

The muggles stared after him for a moment before Steph finally turned and said, "Donia? _Why_… is a Slytherin betraying his own kind to help us?"

"I can't imagine what you mean, asking _me_ that question…" Donia replied aloofly as she gave them her back and walked into the no-longer-congested Great Hall.

"There's something very fishy going on, here," mused Jess looking at the bulletin on the doors as they walked through."

"Yes," agreed Steph angrily. "And it'll be a cold day in Hell before Donia tells us what in God's name it is."

Jess began to laugh mirthlessly.

"What?" Steph glared at her.

"I was talking about the ministry's decree…"

* * *

It was the worst day at breakfast they'd had yet, ending their first week at Hogwarts. Once again, Katie and Sarah were missing. The remaining three friends had no illusion about why the Gryff and the Huff muggles were gone; they were hung over _and_ escaping their varied boy-problems. There was nothing else to it.

It was a terrible feeling, to know that your friends were unaware of just how threatened their existence was and that you were unable to reach them. It was an even worse feeling to have all these serious problems piling up on top of you and _still_ have the Ravenclaws and Slytherins jeer and gibber at you or magically fly things at you. Within the first five minutes of sitting down to eat, all three of them were drenched in raspberry jam, peanut butter and shredded pieces of white toast.

Jess picked a piece of toast out of her hair. She looked at it calmly for a moment, observing the swirls of peanut butter and jam smeared on it with the sinking realization that her hair was probably no better. "A sandwich." She muttered.

"What?" Donia turned to her.

"A sandwich. I'm a sandwich." Jess gave her friend a resolved grin.

Donia grinned back and reached out taking a piece of toast off Jess and popping it into her own mouth. "White bread," said the Slytherin through a full mouth. "Perfect for you…"

Jess snarled mockingly and smeared red jam down the already ruined front of Donia's tie. Donia squealed in horror and brought up her arms in too late a defense.

"Not everyone can have a permanently coppered complexion, Princess Junk-in-the-trunk!"

"I prefer 'Queen of Sheba', thanks!" retorted Donia throwing a globule of soggy toast at her friend.

"I am _not_ calling you the Queen of Sheba!" shrieked Jess.

"Yeah, well, I'll settle for 'Your Highness' from you!"

"Brat!"

"Anus!"

"Did you just call me an _anus_!"

Steph, who'd had her nose still buried in the document Donia had torn off the wall, looked up distractedly to see a full fledged food fight beginning to unfold. Ginny and Dean Thomas, the nearest people to the muggles began to inch away cautiously.

Steph looked around the Great Hall. People were laughing; at them and with them. People were smiling and laughing; albeit a little ashamedly, as if even the magical residents of the school felt guilty about the position their muggle wards were in.

_They like us!_ Steph sat up disbelievingly in her seat. _They like us! We may have a chance! Maybe no one'll report against us!_

Just then, two very important things happened. The first was that Harry, Hermione and Ron came traipsing into the Great Hall, Hermione looking like a primed battleaxe, gripping a crumpled, torn copy of the bulletin in her left fist.

The second happening occurred only a split second later. One moment, Donia and Jess were grappling in a death-defying tickle fight of doom. The next, something silver came whizzing through the air, spinning hollowly until it pinged hard against something and clattered to the ground.

Steph's eyes were too slow to catch exactly what the goblet had bounced off of. She found herself staring at the heavy pewter cup as it rolled around gimpily, dented where it had hit the ground.

Then she looked up to see Jess frantically trying to drag Donia into a sitting position. A tiny rivulet of blood leaked out from beneath Donia's hairline, sliding down past her eye and curving beneath her chin like a tear. Her eyes were blurry with pain and something else, her face scrunched up against tears.

The Slytherins were laughing uproariously, thumping their utensils against the table, clapping and applauding as Draco bowed, as if he'd just created a masterpiece, and took his seat calmly between Pansy and Crabbe.

Harry, Hermione and Ron were running towards them. Ginny was standing on her bench and screaming something at the Slytherins. Steph couldn't hear her, even though she was sure Ginny was being very loud. Everything seemed to have retreated to a distance, as if coming to her from underwater.

Now, Ron and Harry were yelling too. Hermione and Jess were fussing over Donia, who was now sitting on a bench, leaning forward, face hidden beneath hair, though blood was still dripping from her head on to the floor.

Then, suddenly, a voice broke through the fuzzy bubble Steph seemed to have found herself in, rattling her bones and shaking her out of her trance.

"SILENCE!" roared Snape, eyes narrowed lividly. He directed his razor gaze at Harry, Ron and Ginny. "Fifty points from Gryffindor for inciting a riot!"

"That's bullshit!" screamed Ginny leaping off her bench as the entire Gryffindor table erupted into angry babble. Ron's face was so red it almost melded with his hair. _And_ he completely forgot to look shocked at his sister's language.

Harry's face was white, in contrast to his best friend's. He was almost as pale as Malfoy, eyes a fire with suppressed rage, jaw clenched and pulsating.

For a second, Steph found herself seriously afraid of Harry Potter. There was an unbridled capability to _feel_ in him that was frankly intimidating.

The moment passed as Steph suddenly found her own indignance rising within her so fast she couldn't control herself.

She stood up.

"Aren't you going to punish Draco Malfoy, then, Severus?" she drawled.

Silence.

Snape turned his acidic gaze on to her. "_What…"_ he seethed. "…did _you_ call me?"

"I called you by your name, Severus," remarked Steph angrily. This was it. She was beyond control. Something had to be said, something had to be done. It was bad when _food_ was thrown at them, but solid things! _Solid_ things!

The Slytherins watched her bring about her own doom and giggled excitedly.

"What?" she turned to them. "Is your teacher's name funny?"

They shut up.

"_YOU…_" hissed Snape. _"YOU…will call me **Professor** Snape!" _

"No, I think I'll address you as an equal, thanks…"snapped Steph.

"Steph!" Jess's eyes were wide as saucers. "What are you doing!"

"Severus, my friend is bleeding. _BLEEDING_!" Steph firmly but gently grabbed Donia by the hair, pulling her friend's head back so the red running down her face could be plain for all to see. "She's been assaulted. Are you telling me that you're going to let students get away with blatant assault, now?"

If she thought that she'd cornered him, she was sorely mistaken. He grinned at her with his yellowing teeth and said, "Well, why not, _Miss_ Lalonde?" He emphasized her title. "Did your friend Miss Dubois not assault Mr. Malfoy yesterday? It almost seems like poetic justice, doesn't it?"

Stephanie found herself speechless for the third time that morning. She looked around helplessly and found that everyone else seemed to have been struck dumb, too.

Snape was not done his fun.

"Now that I remember, Miss Lalonde, be sure to remember to show up to your detention this evening, in the Potions' Classroom, or your detentions will climb to the amount of four…."

"**FOUR!**" shrieked Ginny and Ron, in unison with about half a dozen other outraged Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

The Slytherins were beginning to laugh again.

The Ravenclaws seemed split. Most of them either ignored all this by looking anywhere else but where the action was occurring, or jeered and cheered with the Slytherins. A few, led by a displeased Cho Chang, got up in disgust and began leaving the Great Hall. As she exited the Great Hall, Chang caught Harry's eye. She smiled, a sad, sympathetic apology on behalf of her house, then walked out of the doors, letting them slam behind her.

Harry watched Cho go, cheeks on fire, jaw a little slack. Steph noticed that Snape was watching him with amusement and Draco Malfoy was rudely mimicking the slightly moronic expression on Potter's face, reducing Pansy to fits of giggles.

Ron, too, was noticing all this. Furiously, he smacked Harry upside the head, bringing his best friend back to his senses. Harry went an even deeper shade of magenta, rubbing the sore back of his scalp as he frowned up at Snape again.

The potions' Master smirked.

"Why four detentions?" asked Hermione suddenly. "You can't just give her random detentions! She can always go see Dumbledore!"

Snapes expression darkened at her. "She would have no excuse, Miss Granger, since I have not given her _four_ detentions. She already had one and I merely gave her another one for addressing me without my title. If she misses them, the detentions will double. That is the common rule for the entirety of Hogwarts, is it not?"

Even Hermione had nothing to say to this.

Steph turned to her friends for support and found that they had none to give. Jess stood over the morosely seated Donia, faces blank and unresponsive. The fight had obviously been beaten out of them for now.

Snape smirked again and stalked away.

Steph wondered where McGonagall was when you needed her.

"He's like a dementor!" raved Ron. "He pops up out of nowhere! He billows about in his stupid black clothes! And he sucks all the joy out of life!"

"Not really, carrot top. He seems to _add_ joy to _my_ life."

They turned to see Malfoy and his posse gathered at the Great Hall doors, near enough to overhear."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry spat through gritted teeth.

"And if Professor Snape _was_ like a dementor, wouldn't you faint at the sight of him, Potter?" Malfoy mused non-chalantly. Tortuga McNair made an exaggerated sighing sound, before dramatically wilting into Pansy's arms.

Laughing, the Slytherins withdrew.

"You don't have to go, Steph," said Jess. "We could go see Dumbledore…"

"We don't have to do anything," shrugged Stephanie. "We won't be here, two days from now. But I _want_ to. I _want_ to go to detention."

"Why!" raged Jess tearfully. "What do you hope to achieve?"

"I don't know," Steph said helplessly. "I don't know. But it'll make _me_ feel better, somehow!"

"Careful, Steph," murmured Donia dizzily, as Harry and Ron helped her to her feet. "You sound like me."

* * *

"Are you going, now?"

It was seven in the evening and Stephanie had clambered to her feet, heavily. Jess looked up at her, awaiting an answer.

"Yeah, might as well. At least it'll be done earlier so I can go to bed, like Donia. I think she has the right idea about sleeping through a bad day…"

"I'll walk with you, then."

Silently, they passed through the torch lit hallways, heels clicking against the ancient stone floors, passing by the increasingly active paintings. When they met other groups of roaming students, the wizards seemed to either fall silent until the muggles had passed, or hoot and jabber till they got bored with it.

"So," began Steph. "What are _you_ going to do all evening?"

"I'm meeting Harry in the Great Hall, later. He's been doing research on the court traditions of the wizarding world with Hermione."

"Oh?"

"Yes. They don't want us to leave without a fight…"

"Really? And what if we want to leave?"

Jess stopped and turned to Steph. Her expression was grave, but full of purpose. "_Do_ we want to leave?" she asked.

"Don't you?" Steph was mildly surprised.

"No, not really."

"A-are you serious?"

"I don't think any of us really want to leave. We'll die, if we do; that's a huge bonus to staying here. And…" Jess fell silent.

" '_And_' what?" prompted Steph.

"Well, it's too easy, Steph! It's too _easy_ to chicken out now! We're here now, in this magical world that we've had the privilege to discover…"

"Privilege!"

"Yes, privilege! We can't leave now. We'd be spitting in the face of Destiny. It's bad luck….and we don't need any more bad luck than we're already having."

Silence.

Steph sighed.

"So you and Harry Potter will be fighting for our rights, then?"

"I guess you could put it that way."

"Well, good luck, then. Here's the stupid potions class. I'll see you later, alright?"

"Yeah."

They embraced.

The door opened. Snape leered out at them.

"Ah! You _are_ here. Come in."

* * *

Once again, Steph found herself sitting at the first desk, right at the front of Snape's classroom, under his preoccupied eye, with his gigantic muddy boots staring her in the face as he lounged in his seat, book in lap.

Either he was ignoring her, or the book was exceedingly interesting, because in the forty-five minutes Steph had been glaring at him, he did not even flinch or look up once. He'd virtually forgotten she was there; if she set herself on fire, he wouldn't care.

This, of course infuriated her. It infuriated her so much she was currently contemplating resorting to drastic measures.

_What would Donia do? What would Donia do…_

She looked around at her surroundings, looking for a weapon. Aha! Someone had forgotten their ink-well on the desk right next to hers. Keeping her eye on Snape, she quickly reached across and grabbed the little bottle, quickly swinging back into her original sitting position and hiding it beneath the desk.

He noticed nothing, serenely turning the page with a mild frown of concentration on his face.

Steph waited a few moments till she was sure he was half-way through the page. Then, she picked up the ink-well, pulled her arm back like a Medieval French Catapult and released.

The little, black bottle careened over the potion master's head and exploded in a smattering of dark ink and glass on the wall behind him.

Snape gave a cry of surprised horror and scrambled to his feet, wand at the ready, staring at the mess on the wall behind him. He stood perfectly still, for a moment, before wheeling around, face grey with relief, to glare at the muggle.

She looked back at him dispassionately.

"Did…Did you do that?" he muttered.

"Nope," she replied in perfect Donia style. Unlike the Slytherin muggle (who'd perfected the 'Innocent' look over years of practice-in-the-field) it took all of Steph's might to not break out into a huge grin.

Snape swallowed, still frowning at her suspiciously. He finally turned away from her, staring around the classroom, as if looking for a more likely antagonist.

"Potter and that damned cloak…" Steph heard him mumble as he walked about the class waving him arms in the air, as if hoping to stumble on to Harry beneath his invisibility cloak.

Steph knew perfectly well that Harry was in the Great Hall, planning the muggles' defense in front of many, many witnesses. Snape would _not_ be able to pin this on the poor boy.

Finally, glaring at her with contempt, Snape took his seat, settling back into place and bringing his book up to eyelevel again.

Steph waited a few minutes then began looking around for something else to throw. She wasn't so lucky, this time. There was nothing else she could possibly reach for without getting up; she'd certainly not brought anything else with her to detention…except…

Clothing. Articles of clothing.

Hmmm….okay what was she willing to part with? Her watch? No, not heavy enough, he'd barely hear it tinkle against the wall.

_NOT_ her shirt.

_Certainly NOT_ her skirt.

_HELL NO,_ to anything beneath!

Which left nothing but her thick-soled, black shoes.

They were ideal, really, except that Snape would instantly be able to tell that it was _her_ who'd been flinging stuff all along.

Oh well, it might make detention a little bit more interesting.

Covertly, she bent down and pulled off one of her heavy shoes. Praying her white sock wouldn't attract his attention in the dim gloom of the chamber, she lifted the thick heeled apparel awkwardly over her head and let it fly.

Of course, throwing a shoe is very different than throwing an ink-well. Steph had intended it to go flying over Snape to crash into the wall behind him.

Instead, it flew slower and, consequently, lower. Stephanie's cumbrous footwear pinged perfectly off the centre of Snape's forehead, knocking him out of his seat entirely, so that he disappeared in a pile of flailing limbs behind his desk.

Steph was so horrified with the results of her actions that she shrieked, leaping to her feet, hands on mouth, trying to peer behind the teacher's desk to make sure the man _wasn't_ dead…or comatose!

A moment later, though, she _did_ wish he was comatose, because he got to his feet like a vampire rising from the grave, the perfect picture of menace and danger (except for the big, red shoeprint in the middle of his face).

"_HOW DARE YOU!"_ he roared, spittle flying off his lip. "_HOW DARE YOU! DID YOU IMAGINE THAT YOU'D GET AWAY WITH THAT!"_

He raised his wand, pointing it at the girl.

She screamed in utter horror, throwing her arms up defensively as a bright orange light leapt out of his wand and came flashing towards her.

But it hit her upraised arms and seemed to bounce off entirely, careening off to collide with one of the potions' cupboards, making it rattle dangerously forwards and back.

Snape gaped.

Steph lowered her arms; they were smoking slightly as if they'd been on fire, but other than that seemed utterly unharmed.

"How did you do that!" he demanded.

"How'd I do what?" Steph asked peevishly.

"_That!_" he pointed at her smoking arms. "_That! That! THAT!"_

_What would Donia say? What would Donia say…_

"I don't know what you're talking about." replied Steph.

"Petulant child!" he hissed. "How stupid do you imagine I am?"

"I'm not imagining anything," said Steph.

He frowned. "How did you repel my magic?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, well, Veritaserum will soon clear _that_ up…" he grinned wickedly.

"Sure," said Steph lightly. "I might even throw in the information about you being a Death Eater spy, as I'm being questioned. Do you think the rest of the staff would find that piece of information intriguing?"

His grin vanished immediately.

"_YOU…_"

"Oh save it!" she barked. "I didn't mean to throw the damned shoe at _you_, anyway; I'd meant to hit the wall. The Powers-That-Be must have decided you needed a good walloping, and if you're not careful, the Powers-That-Be might decide to do it again."

He stared at her as she sat down at the desk again, her unshod foot delicately lifted off the ground.

"Petulant child…" he whispered.

"Talking about yourself, I'm sure," she muttered.

"You _will_ respect me!" he demanded.

"Why? You don't respect me!"

"I am an instructor and an adult…."

"Both _not_ good enough reasons to respect you."

"Then, what would you deem as reasons for respect?"

Steph paused. "Well…"

Snape had begun to smile wickedly at her again when she said, "Tolerance."

"Tolerance!"

"Yes, tolerance. Being able to put aside your prejudices to do what's right…"

"That is what I do…" he replied.

"NO! No, it's not! You make the lives of the Gryffindors hell because of something that happened to _you_ when you were younger."

"It's a foul house!"

"The Slytherins are a foul house!"

"_Now_, look who's prejudiced!"

Silence.

Steph continued in disbelief. "But…they're _horrid_!"

"And the Gryffindors are idiots!" Snape slammed his fist down on his desk. "Just because they're too stupid and rash to see the wickedness they do doesn't mean they may be forgiven for it! Who ever forgives the wickedness of _my_ house? Even you! A stranger who should not be predisposed to any preferences! You've made up your mind already, haven't you?"

"Because they're _bastards_!" she screamed. "You're house is full of _bastards_! I was ready to accept anything this world would give me! I thought I'd be protected here! And the first thing we meet on the train is Draco Malfoy, spitting venom!"

"He has his beliefs…" murmured Snape, slightly abashed.

" '_He has his beliefs'_ !" Steph howled with laughter. "Is _that_ your excuse?"

"YES!" yelled Snape. "Yes! We have our beliefs! Slytherins have beliefs! Every community on Earth deserves its beliefs and no one has the right to tamper with them!"

"Oooooh! Great beliefs they be, if they excuse you to bully those weaker than you…" she spat.

"Weaker than me? Like who? Mr. Potter? Who constantly gets away with infringements on school law? Or Granger who is pig-headedly insistent that _she_ knows better? Or…"

"Those are character judgments that you, as a teacher, are not allowed to judge them on! You're no better, you know. After hearing about how miserable you were when you were younger because of the various bullies in your life, one would think you'd know better! And what about my friends and I? What excuse do _you_ have for our mal treatment?"

"You're muggles! You don't belong here!"

"You're a _WIZARD!_ You don't belong in reality, as far as I was concerned, three weeks ago! The fact that your people are so easily corrupted by power is the real reason for my being here! _You're bullies! Glorified bullies!_ You pick on those weaker than you!"

"It is the natural order of things…"

"What? So I guess you think that anyone physically weaker doesn't deserve respect, then? Like…like…You're basically saying that men are better than women because they're physically stronger…"

"…They aren't?" Snape shrugged, frowning.

He wondered why she was looking at him the way she was. Then, he wondered why she was going so red in the face.

Then, he didn't have time to wonder anymore because Stephanie had leapt to her feet, ripped off her remaining shoe, and walloped him with it.

"AAAAAAh!" cried Snape ducking behind his desk as her watch and socks and hair clip followed, flying over his head like demented butterflies. "Stop!"

"NO! I'M SORRY! I CAN'T! IT'S THE NATURAL ORDER OF THINGS!" she shrieked.

"Stop!" he shouted poking his head up from behind his fort. A chair went flying across the room, crashing against the wall behind him. He ducked again quickly, then leapt to his feet, waved his wand at Steph, and yelling, "_Immobiliaris!_"

A flash of pick light shot towards Steph, but once again it merely rebounded off her, frizzling into the floor.

"AAAAAARGH!" she snarled picking up her desk.

Snape gave a very un-Snape-like whimper and dove out from behind his desk as her projectile shattered where he'd been only seconds before.

In her rage, Steph was not quite quick enough to expect what he did next. Throwing caution to the wind, the man leapt at her, dropping her to the ground and sitting on top of her.

This was the girl who'd taken on Bellatrix LeStrange, though. Snape found himself tangling with the human equivalent of a blender on 'frapé'.

"GET OFF ME!" she screamed. "GET OF ME!"

"I WOULD IF I DIDN'T FEAR FOR MY LIFE!" he screamed back.

"FINE!" she relaxed and went limp, rolling her eyes, annoyed with her defeat.

"But first," Snape grinned, finally holding her arms down successfully. "How did you deflect my magic?"

"_WHAT!"_

"Just answer the question and I'll let you go!"

"….I'm going to kill you…."

"Please, calm down, Miss Lalonde, there's no need to overreact the way you do…"

"**GET OFF ME, YOU CREEP!**"

"As soon as you tell me how you blocked my magic!"

"Fuck you!"

"Is it some form of muggle magic?"

"Muggle magic? Listen to yourself!"

"Well, how is it that muggles have survived this long without _any_ magic?" mused Snape, bracing himself against the bucking girl. "Are there more subtle forms of magic that muggles possess?"

"NO!" wailed Steph close to tears. She'd never been made to feel this helpless by a man before.

"Then? How did you block my magic? How did you survive Voldemort? How do muggles, in general, survive?" asked Snape with quiet curiosity.

"I don't KNOW!" she finally burst into tears and stopped fighting. "Magic! Magic! Magic! That's _all_ you ever care about! Power through _magic! Gain through magic! _Who's a squib, who's pureblood, who's a muggle, who's a mudblood! Magic is _nothing_! **_Nothing_**! It is neither the first nor the last weapon in the world, nor the most powerful! Muggles live just fine without your magic! In fact, the last time I checked, we were living _better_!"

"Better? Really?" hissed Snape savagely. "How is it that you've arrived at that conclusion?"

"WE'RE NOT A VANISHING BREED ARE WE, SNAPE?"

Silence.

Her face was a mere inch from his, her teeth bared in cold wrath.

Snape had never noticed before but _Miss_ Lalonde had acutely sharp canines.

_A dying breed. _

His kind were a dying breed.

"Get off me," demanded Steph, mistaking his hesitance as lechery.

Snape realized this and was momentarily thrown off balance. "Wh-what?"

"Get _off_ me…or I'll scream rape!" she hissed.

"Urgh!" he barked with repulsion, propelling himself off her and shooting away to the opposite end of the room.

Slightly insulted, Steph climbed to her feet. She felt even more insulted when she watched him shudder a few times and even gag a little.

"What's your problem?" she snapped.

"I'm aware that….you might be considered something of a…" he searched for a word. "…good looking girl, in certain circles, but I assure you, Miss Lalonde, that _I_ would never even consider a _muggle_ for…for…" he dwindled awkwardly and swallowed.

Another silence.

"You ASSHOLE!"

"Oh, what now?" he rolled his eyes.

"How dare you even _claim_ to be picky when the _entire_ school, the _entire_ Wizading community, knows that you've never even been laid!"

"I beg your pardon!"

"Who the HELL do you think you are anyway?" she stomped her foot angrily. "Have you looked at yourself, like, in the last thirty years? Ha! Ha!"

"Miss Lalonde!" he yelled.

"Enough!" she yelled back. "I want out! I want out of this detention!"

"Not on your life!" he spat advancing on her.

"Let me out!"

"No!"

"Fine! I'll just go!"

"And you'll be back tomorrow! And the day after! AND the day after that!"

"AAAAAAAAAARRRRGH!" her hands went to her hair and she gripped her own standing, electrified locks.

"You can roar like a mule all you want, I _still_ will not release you from your detention." He hooted triumphantly.

"Release me or I'll cry rape!" she whispered.

"I beg your pardon?" he laughed in disbelief. "I don't think I quite heard you, you foul, little…."

"Call me what you will, I'll still cry rape!" This time, it was she who laughed triumphantly. A strange thrill of excited success ran through her, making her shake all over.

"Cry rape!" he howled, mockingly. "Where, on your person, is there any evidence of…of…" he dwindled (again), swallowed (again) and finally said, "….of…_anything_?"

Steph paused. Steph leered. Steph laughed.

And then her hands went to the collar of her shirt.

With one powerful jerk, fueled by her hatred for Snape, she ripped her shirt wide open, down to her navel. A shower of buttons abandoned ship, leaping to the floor with tiny tapping sounds, revealing a red, lacey bra and expanses of peach ice-cream colored skin.

Snape made a vague choking sound.

"Well?" said Steph.

Snape made another choking sound; he gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing as he desperately sought for some sort of defense.

Steph raised an eyebrow. Then, she opened her mouth, scrunched up her face and let out a blood-curdling scream that reverberated through the entirety of Hogwarts from the Potion's dungeon to the Astronomy tower.

Snape looked close to passing out.

Then, he pulled himself together and waved his wand "_Reparo!"_

Buttons leapt off the floor back onto the shirt and it closed, hiding Steph's rather revealing lingerie.

Feet were thundering in the hallway outside.

Steph reached out and ripped her shirt open again.

Snape mended it once more, a little panicked this time.

Steph ripped it open a third time.

"Stop!" hissed Snape weakly as someone fumbled at the door.

"…but I heard someone scream…." Came Neville Longbottom's voice from the other side of the door.

"All the more reason to let_ me_ in first, Longbottom," snapped McGonagall curtly in reply. "Now let me through, please! I can't reach the door; let me through!"

"Release me," said Steph. "And I'll let you fix my shirt…"

* * *

Minerva McGonagall reached for the door handle but it was instantly pulled out of her hand. The door opened and Steph Lalonde walked out, smiling serenely, feet unshod, shoes beneath her arm. Other than that, there appeared to be no harm done to her person, though Minerva could have sworn that it was _this_ girl who'd screamed.

The group of curious on-lookers, who'd accumulated before the dungeon door, turned to allow their gazes to follow the muggle. Then, in unison, everyone turned and peered into the potions' classroom.

Snape stood in the centre, his wand in his hand, arms hanging limply by his side. He looked exhausted and mildly shell-shocked. His class was in ruins; what with the black ink smattered all over the wall behind him, the shattered glass twinkling like scattered glitter, and broken furniture every where.

"Severus?" McGonagall began.

"Um…close that door, Minerva." He murmured.

* * *

Jess, Harry and Hermione were still bent over their various books on the Wizarding Legal System when The Great Hall doors opened and Steph poked her head inside.

Hardly anyone was in the Hall, at this time. Most people were in the common rooms, doing homework or socializing. A handful of people were having a late dinner, but that was about it.

Steph insecurely reached up to her chest, subconsciously checking that her shirt was drawn over her bosom, which was ridiculous because Snape had obviously fixed it. Feeling a little light-headed, she forced herself to walk, semi-steadily, to the table and sit down next to Jess.

"…but it says here that Political Immunity is reserved for _wizards_ from without the local community. _Wizards_… Oh hello, Steph! You're out of detention early…." Jess pushed her glasses back onto her nose and smiled wearily at her friend.

"Mmmmhhumm…" Steph nodded a little, looking at the floor distractedly. Her hands absently went up to her collar to check that it really was fixed again.

_GOD! She'd flashed a teacher! In fact, she'd threatened a teacher! BLACKMAILED a teacher! _

"How was it?" asked Hermione darkly.

"Um…" began Steph, but Harry cut her off.

"How would it be, Hermione? Terrible, of course. Snape probably forced you to shine all the silver or something like that."

"But she's out early…" frowned Hermione. "There's no way he made her shine-"

"Was it terribly boring, Steph?" asked Jess sympathetically.

"Um….Mmhhuuumm…." Steph nodded again, still not looking into Jess' eyes as the younger redhead gripped her hand supportively.

Jess misinterpreted Steph's reluctance to converse.

"Aw Steph! Did he bully you? Was it horrid?"

"Um…." began Steph hesitantly.

"Oh, he didn't, the jerk!" fumed Jess. "He's _so _lucky _you_ put that 'No Violence' rule in effect!"

"Oh…yeeaah…the 'No Violence' rule…" Steph once again reached for her shirt collar worriedly.

"I mean if it'd been Donia! Ha! Things would've been different!" Jess declared, bringing her fist down on the table.

_Not so different,_ Steph thought. _I'm going to hell in a hand basket.

* * *

_

Steph barely slept that night. The scene of her ripping her shirt open repeatedly replayed over and over again in her head. Sometimes, the scene intermingled with confused dreams and she would wind up sitting up in bed, drenched in a horrified sweat, with one or more of her friends' embarrassed faces still fresh in her memory.

But all through that horrific night where Steph conducted her own striptease repeatedly in her mind, a plan began to formulate; a plan that was considerably ruthless considering how she'd scarred herself the evening before. The plan, surprisingly enough, involved ripping her shirt open a few more times.

How could this come from the mind of a girl having nightmares about this very action?

Well… Steph…Steph was the kind of person who acted for the Greater Good.

And _this…_ _this_ was going to be for the Greater Good.

* * *

Snape had gotten drunk in private the night before, so he was more irritable than even he usually was, this morning. Light and noise hurt, and he felt increasingly nauseous the more he realized that he was going to be having the Gryffindors and Slytherins for the first lesson.

Usually, he enjoyed the friction brought about by putting two groups of people who detested one another in tight quarters, but today he really didn't feel up to it. Even with the Slytherins in the room.

Gryffindors wore red, and red reminded him of red hair…red lingerie…red…

"Five minutes to go. I have five minutes to relax…" he sank into his chair, with his back to the door and tried to doze off for a moment.

His door opened and closed. Snape's red-shot eyes shot open.

"I have not called the class in yet!" he snarled. "Go outside and wait like the rest-"

"Severus…"

He leapt out of his chair and spun around, eyes wide with fear. "Y-yo-_YOU! Why are you here? Why are you here again!"_

Steph stood two feet away from him. "Severus I want you to stop getting involved with my friends and I! I want you out of muggle affairs entirely! Especially where it involves Draco Malfoy!"

"What!"

"You heard me. Disobey and I'll cry rape. Argue and I'll cry rape. In fact, say anything but 'Yes, Miss Lalonde' and I'll cry rape."

"You can't! You wouldn't! You- "

Steph reached up to her collar.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" howled Snape.

Steph ripped her shirt open. Her bra was a very flattering shade of lilac, today.

Snape wailed, "Reparo!" desperately, but Steph only did it again and again until he got the point.

Noise and students were accumulating outside the door. Snape looked towards it in panic.

"Don't worry. I locked it. Of course, one ever really knows how long a door _will_ **stay** closed, in the Wizarding World." Steph stated lightly.

"Stay back!"

"Are you going to comply or am I going to have to scream again?"

"No! No! You cannot force me! You cannot do this! I could be fired! Or thrown into Azkaban! You- NO! Don't scream! I'll do it! I'll do it!"

Steph closed her mouth and grinned. "Now, fix my shirt." she demanded.

* * *

Hermione and Ron met Steph on their way into Snape's class.

"We can't talk long or Snape'll rip our heads off!" growled Ron.

"Oh, you might find him slightly subdued, today…" said Steph mysteriously. "Where's Harry?"

Ron and Hermione suddenly seemed insecure.

"They…they're off, Steph," said Hermione gently.

"Off? Off where?" the muggle frowned.

"To the ministry," said Ron. "My Dad, my brother Charlie, Kigsley Shacklbolt and Remus Lupin came to pick' em up.

"To do what!"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other then back at Steph.

"They're mounting the defense, Steph," Said Hermione softly. "The hearing's today…"

* * *

_And now: The Chapter Plan!_

_-The 'No Violence Rule' threatens the muggls' lives, but Donia doesn't break it. Someone else does._

_- Lars beats up a muggle to please Draco._

_- Harry and Jess can't prove that the muggles are under attack, at court, which is the only way the muggles would be allowed to stay at Hogwarts. _

_- Katie gets kidnapped._

_-Ron gets beaten up._

_- An army rises in Hogwarts ... and it's not Dumbledore's Army. _


	9. Fracture V: A Muggle Defence

_Darling readers! _

_Hello! Chapter 9 is at your disposal. So sorry it took me so long to put up here. Between assistant directing a university mainstage and coreographing it, plus getting Adult Chicken Pox, and the regular stresses of job and love-life and money, this chapter suddenly became a lomming monster! It was SO hard to write because, as you'll notice, it's a lot more serious and heavy and confusing than any other chapter of 'Purple' I've ever written before._

_It's also 62 pages long. (cries a little)_

_Thank you so much for your patience! I promise to be faster in the future. I'm also starting another fic that I'm putting up, called 'Those WhoEat Death' that's not for the faint of heart. If you feel like dark intrigue Azkaban style, feel free to check it out. I know that anything you guys suggest in reviews for its future will be as exceedingly useful and relevent as whatever I've received for 'Bullseye'. :) _

_I'd like to thank Katie for her Percy Weasley idea and just for being amazing in general. Ariensilverleaf is'my hero. We must mate. Now. Enk, I thank for constant inspiration, checking my German history, orgasmal fanartand keeping on me till I actually wrote the damned thing! The same goes for Sawiuk who will not rest till I update more regularly, and my doll RiceBall, as well as Phorcys (here come the techno problems!)._

_Standard disclaimers apply, tasty teaser at the end and...enjoy, people. It's yours, now.,_

_Peace, Love and Weaponry,_

_Spite._

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 9. Fracture V: A Muggle Defence **

If Steph thought that _she'd_ been having a surreal morning, Jess' was no less interesting. It started with the walk to breakfast from the Ravenclaw dorm to the Great Hall. She and Harry had stayed up late into the night, noses buried in books, minds reeling with polysyllabic legal jargon; it had taken all her effort to pry herself from her bed and drag on her clothing in a semi-respectable fashion.

Her mind was still cloudy and slow when she turned the corner and ran into a gang of preoccupied Slytherins.

The fog on Jess' brain suddenly evaporated; everything became suddenly clear and sharp. The ends of her finger tips tingled and she felt her muscles tighten in anticipation all over her body. _This time, by God, they weren't going to catch her! _

_But…wait a minute…_

The Slytherins parted down the middle. Blaise Zabini turned her head shiftily, casting a scanning glance around the hallway.

They hadn't noticed Jess yet.

Standing next to Blaise, amidst the huddle of Slytherins…was Donia.

Jess gaped silently, then shook her head from side to side to clear her brain of the hallucination she was _surely _having.

Nope, it _wasn't_ a hallucination; _that_ was definitely Donia, huddled with the Slytherins, looking just as shifty and suspicious as any other member of that house.

Jess frowned. _What was going on, here!_

"Donia!" she called advancing out of the shadows.

The entire group jumped violently, including her friend. They blinked at her confusedly for a moment, then suddenly began to slink away in an efficient, unhurried retreat.

"Hey! Wait…" began Jess rushing forward. Donia was hurriedly murmuring instructions to the Slytherins as they were taking off. Jess finally got close enough to hear the other muggle grab the last girl by the arm and murmur, "…and, Beth, tell Jon it's a go with Plan B and C…"

"What about Dra-" began the Slytherin girl.

"Later." Hissed Donia nervously.

Beth turned around and gave Jess a fleeting glare, as if the Ravenclaw muggle had interrupted something crucial. Jess watched her go, in utter confusion. Then, she turned to Donia.

"What's going on?" snapped Jess.

"What do you mean?" gulped Donia.

"No! Stop it! You always do that when you don't want to answer a question!"

"Do what?"

"Ask a question back instead of answer!"

"Answer what?"

"The question!"

"What question?"

"DONIA!"

"What!"

"_Why_ are you talking to the Slytherins?"

"I…I…I'm not!"

"How…Wha-…You just were!"

"No I wasn't!"

"Yes, you were! You were talking to the Slytherins! And they weren't pummelling you in return. _Why?_ What are you up to?"

"I wasn't talking to the Slytherins. Slytherins are…bad. They're evil and mean and kinky, not to mention generally loose with their honours…"

"You _were _talking to them! I just saw you!"

"You saw wrong! I was….beating them!"

"Beating them. With what?"

"With…words."

"Words. And what did those words involve?"

Donia's eyes swivelled from side to side unhappily as she searched for a way out. Finally, she yelled, "What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?"

Jess was not impressed. "You're doing it again!"

"Doing _what!__"_

"Asking a question because you don't want to give an answer!"

"What if it's not that I don't _want_ to give an answer, but, rather, that I _can't _give one?" The Slytherin muggle squinted with effort.

"It's all semantics, darling, and I'm not buying it," snorted Jess.

Silence.

Jess sighed wearily. "Fine. I'll let it go. I just hope you're not breaking the 'No Violence' rule…"

"I promised I wouldn't, Jess."

"Yes, and I believe you wouldn't," the Ravenclaw smiled softly. "I just…I'm nervous about one of us doing something to fan the flames at the ministry of magic…."

"I'm trying my best. I got a goblet thrown at me yesterday, and I did nothing about it," Donia put her hand up and pulled her hair back revealing a newly healed cut at her hairline. "Do you know how difficult that was for me?"

"I do."

"If that had happened back at _our_ school…"

"I know; you'd have pulled Malfoy's kidneys out of his sides with your bare hands and used them as sandwich meat. I know that this is difficult for you and I appreciate it…"

"Mmmmm…."

"What?"

"I'm hungry."

"Was it the image of Malfoy's kidneys between two pieces of whole wheat toast?"

"Quite possibly."

Jess laughed. "Alright! Go to, then, heinous wench! Forsake my company for that of Breakfast's!"

"Aren't you coming?" asked Donia gently. "You should really get something into you before those Oar-ers…"

"Aurors, Donia."

"…pick you up."

"I really can't get anything down me right now. I just….need to walk around…"

"Yeah, well, I hate to bust your chops or anything but I wouldn't walk around on my own right now…"

"Why?"

"The Slytherins are out for blood. Draco Malfoy issued a carte blanche to the Slytherins on attacking muggles this morning."

Jess raised an eyebrow. "Really? And did you find this out just now? While theywere _beating_ you with _words_?"

Donia's temper flared. "Look! That's my advice…"

"Sorry! Sorry…."

"…take it or leave it!"

"I'm sorry! I couldn't help it!"

"Yeah, well, I could've not told you…"

"I understand! Thank you!" Jess was trying so hard not to laugh. Then she wondered, "Why are they attacking _now?_"

"Well," Donia mused sarcastically. "I believe it started with _someone_ issuing a _stupid _'No Violence' rule…"

"It's _not _stupid!"

"…so _now_, no one thinks twice about getting some fun at our expense, us being poor defenceless, pacifist muggles and all."

"It's _not_ a stupid rule! Is _fear_ the only way to gain respect, for you?"

"There's only two ways to gain respect, Jess: fear and love, and I don't see Draco Malfoy leaving night time roses outside _my_ bedroom door any time soon, do _you_?"

Jess squinted at the Slytherin muggle in disbelief. "You're not alright, up here, you know," she gestured at her own left temple in a circular motion. "Usually people who think like you have led troupes through Desert Storm, or something. I recall that, during _that_ period of world history, you were busy throwing mud at my sandcastle on our school trip to Dorset Beach. So why is it that you're a xenophobic megalomaniac with delusions of dictatorial grandeur, Donia?"

Donia sniffed snootily, "Madness, Jess, is the perfect reaction to an insane world."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"Didn't you get it? I thought it was rather clever…"

"Well, don't let _me_ be the judge; I don't speak 'Crazy'."

"Crazy? Do you want to know what's crazy? A non-violence rule. Allowing the luxury of some higher moralistic value when our very survivals are at stake."

"Our survival is not at stake… yet…"

"Oh you think so, do you?" The Slytherin snorted cynically. "You're gonna get a nasty shock, in that courtroom, today."

And with that, she took off.

* * *

The odd encounters didn't end there, of course. Though they disagreed on many matters, Jess took Donia's advice to heart and began speedily making her way towards The Great Hall. At the top of the staircase, on the second floor, she took an unexpected turn to avoid The Bloody Baron and came upon Katie, lurking in the shadows. 

"Err….Hi?" said Jess.

Katie approached, looking nervously about, like a deer sniffing the air for predators as it leaves the safety of a thicket.

Jess had flashes of '_Bambi'_ going through her head as she watched the blond emerge, eyes first.

"Hi, Jess," her friend twitched. "How…" she twitched again. "…are you?" Twitch! "Heard…" Twitch! Twitch! "…we might be…" Twitch! "…thrown out of…" Twitch! Shiver! Twitch! "…Hogwarts!"

Jess stared. "Are you alright, Katie?"

"Sure!" Twitch! "It's just that…" Twitch! "I've survived off nothing… but my stores …of candy…for thirty six hours….If they hadn't run out…I'd still be up in my dorm…safety, you know…I 'm…just…a little …jittery… Nothing a…. little band practice… won't fix…"

"Katie, we can't have band practice. There's no electricity…"

"Oh…" Twitch! "Oh dear…" Jitter jitter twitch! "Might need…to run…around the …quidditch pitch…a few…times...then…"

_Make that a few hundred times,_ thought Jess.

"So I…guess I'll…see you…later…. Got to…walk around…feeling…a…bit….pent up….Then…I might just go…back to my room…after…I pee…Haven't…peed…for a while….get some sugar….out of ….my system…" Said Katie attempting a smile.

"Um…yeah…." Jess replied miserably.

One by one her friends were resorting to locking themselves up in their dorm rooms, a sure sign of psychological trouble. How many days had Donia just slept away since their arrival at Hogwarts? Now, Katie was barricading herself, not even coming out to eat proper food. And Sarah? Well, who'd seen _her_, the past couple of days? There was no getting through the Hufflepuff barricade. Trying to get a glimpse of Sarah was like hearing accounts of Big Foot, something, Jess was sure, that was a result of Sarah's own doing.

_Oh! Shit! _Jess remembered something and looked up to speak to Katie, but the Gryffindor muggle was gone.

"Oh Shit!" hissed Jess, with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Katie had said she wanted to walk around before going back to her room. Jess should've probably warned her about the Slytherins being on the rampage.

_Maybe she'll be lucky enough to avoid them,_ Jess thought hopefully.

_Yeah, and maybe I'll sprout wings instead of arms and lay an egg at the Ministry of Magic which will contain the cure to all things Voldemort related…_

She took a deep steadying breath and prayed that, by some fluke, nothing nasty would happen to Katie as she wandered shakily around the castle.

* * *

Irony of ironies, it was Donia who ran into the first batch of guerrilla Slytherins. 

She'd almost made it to the Great Hall, too, but there they were…standing in the doorway, four strapping boys, most of them from the quidditch team, of course.

For a split second, she definitely had a chance of slinking away unnoticed. Then, Draco turned around and their eyes met.

_Fun,_ he thought, grinning at her wickedly. "Ready for round two, Muggle?"

_Bring it on, bastard,_ she thought, advancing and rolling up her sleeves. "I owe you one for that flying goblet, Malfoy."

He stared at her. " 'No violence' rule?"

She paused mid-step, her hand still at her sleeve. Her eyes widened for a horror filled moment, then her face fell in disappointment. "Oh, fuck." She mumbled.

Draco's grin pounced back onto his face quicker than a Mexican jumping bean.

"Um!" began Donia as they advanced towards her and she took a step back. "Plan B!"

With that, she turned around on the spot and took off like a chased hare, sprinting as fast as she possibly could in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" yelled Draco. "Wha- ! Damn it! _AFTER HER!_"

The boys sprung forward, their feet thundering against the stone of the hallway.

Draco stood where he was, fists balled, knuckles white, anger rising in his gorge, knowing full well that his chance for some entertainment with his arch nemesis had just fled up the hall.

Time to move on to smaller fish.

Another muggle.

He smiled to himself, his mercury-coloured eyes narrowing with venom.

It was the Gryffindor muggle's turn to taste his wrath, and Draco's wrath usually tasted like blood.

* * *

Jess was lucky enough to just miss Draco as he swooped into the Great Hall like a vision of death. He was on the rampage, set on finding Crabbe and Goyle, since he'd already dispatched his more intelligent lap-dogs after Donia. Crabbe and Goyle would do nicely for the _Gryffindor_ muggle. 

He was so preoccupied that he barely sensed the Ravenclaw muggle entering behind him. Jess, too, hardly took note of him. Her eyes were searching for black hair, not blond. Her gaze was directed towards the Gryffindor table, not towards the Slytherins.

"Harry!" she called, waving and running towards him. She came to a panting stop by his side. "Hi, you two," she smiled quickly at Hermione and Ron and then turned her worry-grooved face back to him. "Any epiphanies over night?"

"Nothing," he shook his head sadly. Poor Harry had deep, purple pockets under his eyes, which only served to make his complexion more sallow. "I wracked my brains all last night…"

Jess drooped. "Should…should we just give up? Maybe we shouldn't go…"

"No!" cried Harry. "We're going to court. We have to _try_."

"He's right," interjected Hermione. "Actually seeing you and looking into your face might sway sympathy in your direction. And I'll be researching all I can, here, while all the deliberations are happening."

"That's right. And I've invited the press…" began Harry.

"You've _what!"_ Ron and Hermione cried in unison.

"I've invited the press." stated Harry flatly.

"Harry…" breathed Hermione. "_Why!"_

"Because it's about time _I_ got some use out of _them_." Said Harry between gritted teeth.

"You're mental," raved Ron. "You know that once you give them an inch, they'll take a mile. They'll never leave you alone _again_. EVER. For eternity!"

"I have to take that chance," replied Harry. "It's propaganda. I have to somehow convince the Wizarding world that we have to keep Jess, Katie, Sarah, Donia and Steph."

"What's 'propaga-'…" began Ron.

"They'll hound you, Harry." Hermione bit her lip. "They'll hound you _and_ Jess. You could've at least asked _her_ before you called the press…"

For a moment Harry appeared taken aback. He looked at Jess, a horrified expression on his face.

Jess swallowed loudly. "They…they can't be worse than the _muggle_ press."

Hermione's face fell. "Oh, yes they _can_."

"Really? How?"

"The muggle press can't turn into beetles."

"What?"

Ron interjected. "Just take her word for it, Jess."

"Well, Harry's survived them, hasn't he? I mean…he's lived with them badgering him for _years_. I'm sure I'll manage. If it'll help the others and I stay at Hogwarts, then I'm up for it."

Harry smiled. "That's good of you. That really is."

"You don't know what you're getting into..." Began Hermione again, but then the boom of the doorway leading to the Professors' table opened and Albus Dumbledore emerged.

For a second, a pin could be heard dropping in the usually robustly noisy hall. Then, the hiss of chittering whispers ignited across the table like flame licking gasoline.

"It's Dumbledore!"

"Dumbledore? We haven't seen him in a while…"

"I hear he's been to Beauxbaton, trying to convince them to join the effort…."

"Really? I heard he was visiting his old mother…."

"Mother! Dumbledore doesn't have a mother!"

"Everyone has a mother, Lavender."

"Not Dumbledore!"

"Shut up, you two!" Hermione snapped at Parvati and Lavender. They scowled at her, but obliged as Professor Dumbledore approached their table.

Jess watched him. He too looked weary and troubled, his usually cheerful face lined with extra grooves.

"Harry," Dumbledore nodded at the boy. Jess saw a slight softening in his expression when he addressed Harry, an obvious heart-warming fondness. Then the old man turned to her and said, "Miss Frey."

She could do nothing but nod wordlessly, the lump in her throat was so large. Yet, she had a sneaking suspicions that a mischievous twinkle had come to Albus' eyes when they'd lighted on to her.

"Follow me, please," said the Headmaster. "Your escort is here."

* * *

Katie twittered and twitched down a hallway in the west wing of the castle. She'd realized she was lost about fifteen minutes ago but hadn't cared to turn back, at the time. She'd needed to clear her head, to walk in solitude. 

Now that her head was cleared with fear and her heart was actively speeding, though, she wished that she'd stayed in her room, today.

People were following her. She was sure of it. There were scampering footsteps and giggling whispers that she could hear even if she couldn't see anyone behind her.

There were a lot of shadows in this hallway. Several times Katie caught herself peering long and hard into the blackness of a bend in the corridor. There were barely any paintings, and the ones that were up were somehow subdued or skitterish, sitting quietly huddled within their frames, eyes flicking from side to side as if they too were seeing things flitter in and out of the dark.

Katie walked a little faster, hoping she'd somehow find herself in a hallway with windows, but that didn't seem to be happening.

Someone sniggered behind her.

She spun around and stared. The corridor was completely empty behind her.

"H-h-Hello?" she whimpered.

Someone was definitely following her. Why would anyone be following her?

"Is…is anyone there…?" she paused. She heard running footsteps. Her heart leapt into her throat.

Whoever they were, they were now working in the open and rushing towards her.

With a cry of utter panic and terror, Katie took off, sprinting down the hallway blindly, completely unaware of where she was headed. It only took her a few seconds to realize that these people were herding her, chasing her deeper and deeper into the West Wing.

_Oh my God, who are they!_ Her mind reeled as she sped down corridor after dark corridor.

They were directly behind her now; she could feel them almost catch her. Her lungs strained, her legs burned, her heart thundered and, _still_, she leaned forward desperately, the most basic instinct of survival overriding any logic, now.

Then, a hand appeared out of a coalescence of shadow and grabbed her by the shirt. She ran right into its grasp, shrieking because she knew she couldn't stop.

And then, more hands grabbed her, pulling her into the dark folds of the castle's architecture.

She tried to scream for help, but something was stuffed into her mouth. She struggled and scratched but her arms were twisted behind her and her legs kicked out from under her. Her limbs were bound with what she was sure was rope, and she was lifted clean off the floor by her bindings. She saw a black sack being opened in someone's grasp and started screaming and sobbing through her gag again.

But any attempt to attract attention was futile in this empty hallway and Katie found herself helpless as her kidnappers finally pulled the sack over her head, taking away her vision.

* * *

Jess and Harry got up from their places at the Gryffindor table, purposefully ignoring the questioning glances from the other inhabitants of the Great Hall. 

"Good luck." Hissed Hermione desperately and Harry flashed her a grateful smile.

They followed Dumbledore up to the teachers' table, climbed up the dais, and walked through the door in the side wall into the room that Dumbledore had first taken Harry in year four, when the boy's name had just emerged from the Goblet of Fire.

Four men dressed in black robes waited in the room. Jess recognized Mr. Weasley instantly. She was slightly taken aback by the younger version of himself ( but with much more hair) standing right next to him.

_Another Weasley spawn? Sheesh, wizards put cults to shame!_

Standing next to this Weasley child was a tall, broad shouldered man of African descent, with an earring in an ear, and a sharp twinkle in his eye.

And finally…

"Remus," Harry smiled sadly and came forward to embrace his last remaining father figure.

"Hello Harry," Remus Lupin smiled as well, but with less of an effect. He looked more haggard than usual, his eyes bloodshot, lips dry and cracked. His face at relaxed automatically went into an expression of deep melancholy. As he and Harry stood back, Jess noted the protective grip Remus maintained on Harry's shoulder.

_This man believes he could die at any moment,_ thought Jess heavily.

"Let me introduce you to your escort for the day, Miss Frey," said Dumbledore. "Arthur Weasley I'm sure you've recognized by now."

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Jess nodded her head at Arthur, grinning at him as a feeling of familiarity and warmth expanded within her. "How've you been?"

"Well, thanks to you and your friends, Miss Frey," his grin back was more of a grimace. "I feel like I have to apologize for my own kind…"

"Please call me Jess, Mr. Weasley. And you shouldn't apologize for anything." she shrugged. "Wizards aren't _all_ bad."

"How can you be so forgiving after-" began Mr. Weasley heatedly.

"Buck _up_, Dad. Let her be." The orange-haired young man came forward and offered his heavily burn-scarred hand. "Hi, I'm Charlie. I don't know if you know my brother, Ron…"

"Yes, I do," replied Jess taking his hand and shaking it firmly. "And your sister Ginny. And the twins…"

"Well, now. Been makin' friends, 'ave we?" The big, black man strode forward next and offered up his hand. He had to bend his knees slightly for the gesture not to be ridiculous as he peered down at the small girl. "I'm Kingsley Shackelbolt, an Auror."

"How do you do," mumbled Jess, starting to feel slightly overwhelmed. So many people seemed to know who she was. She caught herself wondering what the Wizarding world thought of her, exactly, what rumours had been spread, what tabloids had exploited her life and the lives of her friends.

"And last but certainly not least," Dumbledore gestured backwards. "That is Remus Lupin."

Jess could only stare.

"Hello," said Lupin.

"Are you the _werewolf?_" she blurted. Then, "I…I'm so sorry…"

"No, it's alright," he replied. "Is it easy to tell?"

"No…not really…" Jess searched his expression for any evidence of the savagery she'd heard Remus' kind possessed, but could find none asides from the old claw marks drawn across his face, and those could be misconstrued as the result of any normal animal attack.

"That's probably the nicest thing anyone's said to me lately," said Remus. "Yes, I am a werewolf, I'm afraid. Muggles know about werewolves?"

"Y-yes…just…in mythology…"

"Right," said Dumbledore lightly. "Time to take off. The proceedings are to start in ten minutes."

"Really? Where's the Ministry?" asked Jess surprised. "Is it in Hogsmede?"

"Hogsmede!" snorted Kingsley Shacklebolt. "It's in London, love."

"London!" exclaimed the muggle. "How're we going to get there in ten minutes?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore. He led the way to the farthest corner of the room, where a table was set up with nothing but a box of cornflakes on it. "This, Miss Frey…" said Dumbledore, pointing at the Kellogg's. "…is a portkey."

* * *

Donia's friends had often noted that, in a tough situation, she tended to fall back on the most basic of ancient instincts. It was either 'fight' or 'flight' with her, tendencies which, at a very young age, had tempted her friends to conduct experiments on just how quick on her feet their twitchy, sociopathic friend could be. 

Right now, though, all the times Sarah or Katie had planned an ambush, or Steph and Jess had told a teacher on her were serving Donia well. Thanks to the promise she'd made to a person she'd dearly cared for, 'fight' wasn't an option.

So 'flight' it was, then.

And _what_ a 'flight'!

If you didn't get out of her way, you were bowled over; it was as simple as that. People screamed and parted as the Slytherin muggle came careening around corners, chased by a pack of quidditch players, her arms bent at the elbows and swinging for momentum, her chest heaving, her thighs pumping away like bellows. Steam trains seemed less likely to completely annihilate you than the sprinting muggle. If you were lucky, she roared "**MOVE!"** as she bulldozed towards you. If you were _unlucky_ you didn't see her coming till she was gone, and you were on the ground, on your back, with an aching head.

It didn't end there, either. If you were even _unluckier_, you didn't manage to roll out of the way before half the Slytherin quidditch team came stomping after the muggle. And _they_ cared even less what part of you they stepped on so long as they kept the distance between them and their quarry small.

Donia began to realize this after about the fifth time she'd sped around the outside of the classrooms. The bell had rung minutes earlier so the corridors were full of students in transit. This _did_ help her a little, leaving human landmines in her pursuers' way that _she_ could easily dodge but were harder to avoid by the group of boys.

But her luck was going to run out sooner or later and she knew it.

She had to stop this chase, somehow. She had to find someone to help her. McGonagall was in class. Snape…well, he was in class too, but she'd rather get beaten up, anyway. She couldn't get her friends involved, and thanks to the 'No Violence' rule, what good were _they_?

She'd have to keep running. She'd run them into the dust if she had to.

Though, gauging from the sharp pain beginning to throb in her right side, she might run _herself_ into the dust, first.

Apparently, quidditch players were_ healthy_. Just her luck.

Gasping and wheezing, but still running like her life depended on it (which it did), she rounded a corner and came to a skidding, sliding halt right in front of a very surprised Lars.

He'd been standing around the hallway, his book open in his hand, his sleeves rolled up casually, his glasses perched on his straight, pointy nose. His eyes widened at her as she careened around the corner and came to a stop, doubled up, in front of him.

Wordlessly, he stared at her for a moment, then leaned over and stuck his head out to peer around the corner.

He could see Flint, Brossier and Nott violently shoving people out of the way at the end of the corridor, heading right towards him.

He pulled his head back just in time for the muggle to leap forward and grab him by the collar.

"Lars?" she snapped.

"Yes?"

"You know that talk we had yesterday about a time when you'd have to pick between your loyalty to Draco and your pro-muggle sympathies?"

"Yes," he replied numbly.

"You have to choose _now._"

He stood where he was, looking down into her desperate, sweaty face, emotionless with shock, silenced by the difficult place she was putting him in.

They could both hear the approaching, thundering feet coming their way. Any moment now, the Slytherins would round the corner and then the muggle would be done for.

"Choose," she hissed again, giving him a little shake by the lapels.

She could feel her heart sink within her, though, as she watched the light fade from his eyes. Deep within her, Donia knew what choice she'd make if she were in _his_ place.

* * *

Jess would never get used to portkeys. It felt like being in a giant juicer, or washing machine, or cement mixer. When the sensation of being spun around at speeds that challenged human biology finally stopped, she found herself about a foot off the ground in a long, white hallway filled with fire places. Jess gave a shriek, falling through the air to land jarringly on her own feet and stumble into an equally confused Harry, knocking him over and landing on top of him. Then, as if all of that hadn't been disorienting enough, the muggle found herself blinded by consecutive flashes of bright light and deafened by the suddenly excited babble of reporters. 

"Oh no," groaned Harry. "It's the press..."

"Harry! Harry!" someone was yelling. "Harry is it true that you've got a muggle girlfriend, Harry? Is that why you've thrown in your lot with the invaders?"

"Is that _her_ Harry? Is that her? Your muggle girlfriend?"

"I don't have a girlfriend!" yelled Harry climbing to his feet and helping Jess up.

"Then, why are you showing your support for the invaders?"

"What invaders?" asked Harry bewildered.

"The muggle invaders at Hogwarts! The ones made mandatory by the Prime Minister!"

"Because...because..." Because he liked them? Because they were good people? Those were good reasons to _him_, but the Wizarding world wouldn't care. He needed a compelling reason for the muggles to be at Hogwarts. "Because they're fighting against Voldemort and need our protection."

"Ah yes, but who'll protect us, Harry? You?" said the young reporter standing at the very front of the crowd with his note book and quill in hand. Scattered laughter errupted from the crowd.

Harry's rage rosewithin him. "Well, I think I've done a good enough job so far, don't you?" he snapped.

There was a moment's shocked silence from the reporters.

Harry felt a hand firmly grip his shoulder. "There'll be no more questions for Mr. Potter and Miss Frey till after the hearing, thank you." said Dumbledore firmly,leading the both of them through the part in the crowd Kingsley, Remus, Charlie and Mr. Weasley were making.

As they walked down the secured hallway, away from the crowd of reporters Jess turned to look back at the thin man who'd mocked Harry. The reporters were parting ways in groups of three or four, probably going to get teaand something to eat, like muggle reporters...all except him. He stood alone, thin as a rake beneath his dirty detective's coat, black hair greased and plastered across his head, eyes glaring at Harry through his thick, coke-bottle glasses.

As if sensing the man's gaze burning a hole at the back of his head, Harry growled, "Who was that, Professor?"

It was Arthur Weasley who replied, "Oh him? His name's Everest Molehill, Harry. Bit of a trouble maker. Has a knack for turning the whole Wizarding world against the Ministry sometimes. Likes to cry 'wolf' a lot..."

"Oh great," spat Harry. "I just made an enemy out of Rita Skeeter in men's clothes..."

"I'm afraid he's worse than Rita Skeeter, Harry," said Remus. "Skeeter liked to fabricate stories. Molehill will take true things that you'd rather not have anyone know about, and blow them completely out of proportion."

Harry groaned. "Hermione was right. I've fucked us right over..."

"Language, Harry." Dumbledore said calmly.

"Sorry, sir." mumbled the boy.

The old wizard smiled at him, then turned and began walking down another hallway.

"Uh! Professor! Where are you going?"

"To have a word with the judge, Harry. I'll see you in a few moments…" Dumbledore turned and took off.

Harry looked slightly green, at this point. Jess, trying to subdue her own panic, decided to mentally assess the experience ahead of her.

"Are the press going to be at the hearing?" she asked, as Kingsley and Charlie opened two huge doors with 'COURTROOM' embossed on them in gold. The next moment she got the reply in camera flashes. "Ow..." she whimpered, blinking hard.

"Well, this is quite the turn out," said Kingsley, scratching his shaved scalp.

"Silence! Order!" The sound of a gavel being furiously slammed against its base resounded in the courtroom. "As barrister of the courts I demand order!"

Jess stared hard around at the raked pews as Charlie gently nudged her down the stairs between the seats. "Th-thank you."

"No problem. It _is_ slightly over-whelming."

The courtroom was filled with people. It seemed that everyone and their mother had turned out to see what would become of the muggles at Hogwarts. "I didn't know we were such a big deal," she breathed.

"I still don't see why you _are_!" replied Harry.

"Can...can I ask something? I'm just slightly confused..." Jess scratched her purple bullseye insecurely as she took her seat at the very bottom of the raked seating. "Who are we up against?"

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Who are we defending ourselves against? Are we 'The People' or are we the...you know...the 'Versus'...?" Jess noticed Remus smiling in the background.

"The likes of us aren't ever 'The People', Jess," said the older man.

"True enough," replied the muggle. "But that still doesn't answer my question. We know that Lucius Malfoy sent that letter about us to the Ministry, but who _received_ it? And who's following it up?"

"Lucius Malfoy sent the letter?" Mr. Weasely suddenly spun around. Charlie and Shacklebolt too had looks of concern on their faces. "The anonymous complaint?"

"Yes," said Jess.

"How do you know this?" asked Remus.

"Um…" _Well, one of my best friends thinks she's Lenin reborn and has managed to infiltrate the Slytherins' ranks with Bolshevics…_ Jess had the sudden mental image of Draco as the Tzar of Russia, tied to a tree, nose in the air with pride and martyrdom, being shot by an execution squad of the Slytherins as Donia stood in the background laughing manically.

Jess blanched. "Long story. And it's not important right now. What is important is that the Death Eaters obviously have someone doing their bidding within the ministry and we don't know who it is."

"Well, we'll find out soon enough. They'll be sitting right over there and we'll have to stare at their bloody, traitorous faces all through the proceedings," fumed Arthur, pointing to the Prosecutor's bench right next to theirs.

As if on cue, the Prosecuting Party emerged from a door at the back of the pews and began to descend, much to the pleasure of the restless reporters.

"Oh no," breathed Kingsley. "It's Carmella."

"Who?" asked both Harry and Jess at the same time.

"Carmella Mislethwaite. Only the best Prosecution Lawyer this side of the sixties," answered Remus. "Used to rally for Witches' Rights, back then, too. Quite the feminist…"

"You mean 'Femi-Nazi'…" growled Kingsley.

(Jess didn't want to mention it, but she had a 'Femi-Nazi' friend called Katie Dubois who would not have hesitated to kick Kingsley in the knee, at this point. Not to mention her other 'Femi-Nazi' friend Sarah Ogle…or her other, _other_ 'Femi-Nazi' friends Steph Lalonde and Donia Sawwan).

Remus grinned at the big black man. "Kingsley! I never pegged _you_ as the type of man to fear an ex-girlfriend!"

_Oh,_ thought Jess feeling a smile quirk the corners of her mouth.

Charlie gasped, completely aghast, and leaned forward to whisper furiously at Kingsley, "_You_ dated Carmella Mistlethwaite!" A look of utter shock/ pleasure permeated the younger Weasley's face. "Oh Kingsley! You dog! You man of steel; of rapier wit and brass balls! You-"

"Charlie! _Please_…"

"Hello, boys," came the cool feminine voice from behind them.

Jess and Harry had watched as the beautiful, tall, black woman with dyed copper corn-rolls and large, golden earrings, put her folders and papers down and approached the Defence bench, while the men were preoccupied with exploring Shacklebolt's past romantic exploits. She hadn't _intentionally_ crept up on the gentlemen; her heels had been clicking and her long, velvet, imperial purple robes had been swishing against the granite of the court floor. She'd even cleared her throat politely and stood waiting for a few moments, smiling kindly at Harry and Jess, who looked back at her with mild embarrassment.

Now, Jess and Harry watched as all four men jumped and fidgeted and looked as guilty as children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Carmella!" Mr. Weasley rose to his feet and took her hand, warmly shaking it.

"Hello, Arthur, how are you? How's the kids? How's Molly?"

"Very well, very well indeed!"

She turned to Shacklebolt. "Hello, Kingsley," she said solemnly.

"How could you prosecute this case!" exploded Kingsley suddenly.

There was a moment's awkward silence.

The woman coolly blinked at him. "Weeeeell, the secretary put the file on my desk. I read what was inside and decided that this cause was worthy ofmy time. I picked up the phone and dialed the ministry..."

"That's not what I mean!" fumed Shacklebolt. "How can you bring yourself to throw those muggles out!"

"I have a feeling that you wouldn't care so much either way if _I _hadn't been prosecuting this case…" murmured Carmella.

"Kingsley, please," interjected Mr. Weasley. "I'm sorry Carmella,"

"It's quite alright…" she smiled at Arther.

"…but I really must ask…would you really deny protection to the children who saved my life?" Arther finished.

Charlie lookedat his father, an expression of worry and melancholy clearly etched on his face. Jess swallowed as she watched the calm, smile slide off Carmella's face. The prosecutor blanched a little beneath her dark skin and blinked rapidly as her lips became a hard line.

"Arther…I…I'm so glad that those girls saved your life," she replied in her deep, sincere voice. "But Hogwarts is no place for a muggle. They're harming the student body and themselves…"

"No we're not!" snapped Jess coming forward. "We're not harming anyone. Everything would be fine if the student body left us alone!"

"Well, I guess that's for you to prove," said Carmella, looking genuinely sympathetic.

"Please, we have no where to go…" began Jess.

"I'm sorry, but I have to think of our children's rights first." stated the Prosecutor turning away.

"J-Just a second, Carmella, I just have a question!" cried Remus pushing forward after her. Harry watched her turn hesitantly as if unwilling to lend herself to any more criticism. "Do you know who within the ministry received the Good Samaritan's letter?"

She flinched. "Oh dear. Please don't make me tell you, Remus."

"It would do us a great service if you did, Carmella."

She sighed wearily, looking morosely at Arther again. "My first witness did," she said. "He's-"

"All rise for the honourable Judge Scrimgeour!" cried the barrister.

Carmella looked frustrated and shrugged silently at Remus before they both went scuttling back to their respective seats. A door behind the dais opened, admitting a tall, thin, frowning man, eagle browed and stern-looking, with white tufts of hair fanning out from the side of his head and deep set dark eyes.

Jess felt intimidated by Rufus Scrimgeour. He was exceedingly tall but with none of Hagrid's hesitance or Dumbledore's kindness in him. He was a man who drew himself to his full height so he could put people in their place. Now, Jess did not sense any bias in him; he did not give the impression that he would favour the wizards over the muggles…he didn't give the impression that he would favour anyone at all. That was the off-setting thing about Rufus Scrimgeour. He seemed the type of man who took what he saw and made a straight decision without hesitation, without second thought. And Jess had no illusions as to what he would see when the 'evidence' was presented.

"Case number three hundred and seventy two, public verses Dubois, Frey, Lalonde, Ogle and Sawwan." called the barrister as Scrimgeour took his seat, confidently bending his long, crane-like legs and artfully sweeping his robe from under him.

Next to her, Harry suddenly tensed. She looked at him and found him staring intently at a spot slightly behind Scrimgeour. Dumbledore had materialised out of the same door the judge had walked out of and was quickly walking towards them.

"Thank you," snarled Scrimgeour. "You may sit."

"Sir," whispered Harry as Dumbledore took a seat next to him. "Where were you?"

"Bargaining, Harry. Bargaining." mumbled Dumbledore, preoccupied.

The barrister announced the case and Scrimgeour called for Carmella to stand. She stated her intent and he turned to the Defense table. Harry and Jess both stood for the Defense, but Harry was the one to speak, since Jess suddenly became incapable of making any sound. It took all her strength to simply stand in front of all the those displeased eyes, gaze lowered, shivering slightly.

Before she knew it, Harry's opening speech was done in a haze of sound. She had comprehended nothing of it, standing there, with her stomach churning violently.

"…I said 'You may take your seat'…"snapped Scrimgeour. Jess only had a moment to look up, startled, into his piercing glare before an already seated Harry and Remus nervously each grabbed one of her arms, pulling her into her seat.

_Wow. I'm making a great impression,_ she thought furiously, going even redder.

Harry, who'd been observing her worriedly, found himself oddly reminded of Ron when _he_ was embarrassed. He had to spend less time with redheads, he decided. _But it's so hard to when they outnumber the rest of my friends two to one,_ he thought, turning in his seat and looking at Mr. Weasley and Charlie.

They didn't notice him. They were sitting on the edge of their seats, waiting for Scrimgeour to announce the first witness so that they could come face to face with the traitor in the ministry, the scoundrel working for Lucius Malfoy, carrying out his bidding from within.

"Right," said Scrimgeour. "Miss Mistlethwaite, you may proceed."

"Your honour," Carmella stood. "I would like to call out my first witness."

"Very well; call the first witness," rumbled Scrimgeour.

The barrister opened his mouth. "We call to the stand…."

Jess held her breath.

"…. Mr. Percival Weasely."

* * *

Flint and Nick Brussier came speeding around the corner, with McNair a few steps behind, only to find that Lars had caught the muggle and was actually doing their work for them. 

Lar's face shone with sweat as he peeled her off the floor, where she'd fallen from his last strike, and rammed her hard against the opposite wall. Though this girl, this _muggle_ was a tough one, Lars was still about a foot and a half taller than she was and it wasn't hard for him to do this.

"Good job, Lars!" exclaimed McNair as the battered muggle cried out with pain and rolled on the floor, her shirt pulling out of her uniform trousers, exposing her side.

"Yeah," said Flint more warily and with less enthusiasm. "Didn't think you had it in you…"

"Shut up, Flint," hissed Lars furiously wheeling around spitting in their faces. He paused only to give the muggle on the floor a sharp kick in the gut. She convulsed violently and coughed and retched as if she were about to bring up last night's dinner. Tears of pain streamed down her purpled face and her arms were folded desperately around her middle. "Just shut up! You've all doubted my loyalty,so _there_!" He kicked her again and she moaned wordlessly, though there was an evident plea for mercy in it. "_There!_" He cried again, his own voice breaking threateningly, as if he were on the verge of tears himself. "I hate hurting people but I've played your dirty little game! So you can just run to your fucking leader…your fucking _god_, Draco, and tell him that he won! Draco won! He's forced me to choose…he's won…"

Lars' chest heaved with emotion. The other boys backed away slowly, looking from their rabid classmate to the muggle, who now lay still, face down, in the hallway.

"Aren't you gonna need help gettin' her up to Pomfrey's?" wondered McNair as they turned to leave.

"Oh please," hissed Lars, lips drawn back with spite. "Let's not pretend we care, McNair. Your so called friends might start doubting your loyalty to your house, next…"

"We don't Lars," stated Flint as the other two turned and high-tailed it back up the corridor. "Not anymore, at any rate. I'll tell Draco. He'll be pleased." And with that, he was gone.

Lars stood there, frozen at what he'd just dared to do. There was no turning back, now. In a way, it felt better to have made a decision, to have taken the plunge and made the choice. Taking a few hesitant steps forward, he turned the corner to see the last of his housemates as they sped away from the scene of the crime, completely confusing the people who were leaping out of their way for the second time in five minutes.

Then, he spun around and walked back to the muggle's prone form on the floor. Bending low, he took her hand and hauled her to her feet.

"Well," said Donia cheerfully, dusting off the front of her clothes. "That went rather well, don't you think?"

"The tears were a nice touch," Lars nodded approvingly.

"Thank you, I'm quite the actress," she smiled, smoothing back her hair. "You weren't half bad yourself. I quite liked the dramatic banishment: 'Go! Leave me in peace! I am tortured and filled with regret by what I have done in the name of loyalty!'"

"Yes, well, I couldn't very well pretend I was enjoying it. My peers might be dim, but they'd surely see through _that_."

Donia laughed as they strolled in the opposite direction from the one his classmates had taken, hands in their pockets, Lars' retrieved book tucked neatly under his arm.

"Why'd you pick me, Lars?" she asked him suddenly.

"Eh?' he stumbled, caught off guard.

"Why would a popular Slytherin quidditch player, who's good friends with Draco Malfoy, side with a muggle?"

"Just because I'm in Slytherin doesn't make me a muggle hater…"

"It doesn't?" she gasped with mock surprise. "But you fulfil all the criteria, Lars…"

"The only criteria I fulfil being in Slytherin is that of ambition and cunning, Donia," he replied, with some irritation at her sarcastic tone. "Salazar Slytherin never said 'I want bigots and inbred Nazis in my house.'"

"Well, he might as well have, making sure that only purebreds got in," she argued.

"Purebloods, Donia, not purebreds. We're not horses." Lars sighed; she had a point. "There are lots of pureblood families who don't care about that sort of thing. The Weasleys, the Diggorys, the Lovegoods and Longbottoms…"

"Yes and none of them are in Slytherin," Donia insisted. "I'm asking _you_. Why weren't you really beating me up, back there? You have a lot to lose. Draco's favour is at the top of that list…"

"I don't care what Draco thinks." spat Lars, a little too vehemently for someone who didn't care.

"Of course you do," said Donia quietly. They'd gone outside the castle and were walking along the edge of the lake, watching the squid break the surface of the black water. The sky rumbled darkly, signalling that if anyone had thought they'd have a relatively mild October, they were sorely mistaken. The wind was bitterly cold and the Scottish moors to the west of the school looked desolate and hostile. "He's your friend. Not just that, he's obviously someone your house puts a lot of faith in. It's hard to go against someone like that."

There was a silence.

Donia pulled her robe tightly around her and wondered how Lars walked around in only his shirt without freezing.

He took a breath and spoke, "My family was pureblood German nobility, directly related to the Kaiser," Donia raised her eyebrows signalling that she was impressed despite having previously known this. "We of all people know what it feels like to be shunned by a social order. At first when we were ousted from power we could hide and pretend we were…middle class or something. But…then Hitler came into power…" He shook his head violently. "Look, the bottom line is, I know what can happen when a society folds in on itself like we do, in Slytherin House, or like the Death Eaters. I don't want to be part of it. It never turns out well and I've tried to tell Draco this, but…he has his beliefs…"

Donia nodded wordlessly, her face twisted in mute sympathy.

"Look," he took her hand suddenly. "It's alright, really. I've always kept my own council anyway. Never do what I'm told." He grinned wickedly. "Must come with being a _'fag_' I suppose."

Donia gave him a bitter sweet smile at the derogatory reference to his sexuality, then she squeezed his hand briefly in return, quickly letting go before anyone could see and wonder at this unusual alliance between a muggle and a Slytherin.

For a moment, Lars actually thought that there might be a chance they'd walk in silence for a while, but what little hope he had was shattered in about three seconds when the girl took a breath and contemplatively said, "_Why _Draco Malfoy anyway? What's so special about _him_? What's his appeal?"

The boy stared at her in amazement. "You really can't see it?"

"Lars, I _obviously_ can't see it; when _my_ dreams actually include Draco, they always consist of him being strung up by an angry mob in my honour. Just different locations. Once in revolutionary France, once as a sacrifice infifteenth century Mongolia…"

"I guess that could be considered sexy, in certain circles..."

"_Lars_!"

Helaughed. "Alright, alright, I shall not even joke about you and Draco _not_ loathing each other." Then, he frowned uncomfortably as he contemplated her initial query. "Why Draco Malfoy? My God, _there's_ a loaded question."

"It wouldn't be, if you weren't so in love with him."

"Well I- _WHAT?"_

"You heard me."

He gaped. Then, he blanched. Then, he attempted to scoff. "I'm not _in love_ with Draco! Really, Donia, I don't know where you get such….such …"

"How does Draco like his tea?"

"He doesn't, it stains his teeth…Oh _shit_!"

"A-HA!"

"Damn it!"

She leered. "It's alright, Lars, I doubt anyone else knows."

"Well, Muggle, it's not been fifteen whole minutes since I've helped you and you're already making me regret it."

Looking at him disdainfully over her shoulder she replied, "I never asked you to help me."

"Yes, you did! You grabbed me by the lapels, shook me like a ratand asked me to choose…"

"Do you have any proof?"

"What? Well, no."

"Sucks to be you, then, doesn't it."

Lars laughed and laughed and laughed.

Donia stared at him out of the corner of her eyes. "What's with you?"

"Oh nothing. It's just that you two are _so_ similar."

"Us two who?"

"You and…oh…never mind…"

* * *

The world was darkness. 

Darkness and a close, scratchy bag over her head. Her own breathing and whimpering sounded loudly in her ears, certainly much louder than the furtive whispers and scarce footsteps of her captors. She was jerked and joggled none too gently for about ten minutes as her kidnappers ran noiselessly down corridors, pausing to hide from passers by and send out scouts to check the hallways ahead.

They were very well organised, whoever they were, leaving nothing but helplessness and fear in Katie's mind. She was trussed up like a fly in a spiderweb, gagged and blinded, waiting for the end to come.

Her captors came to a hault. Someone whispered something and a soft scraping was heard.

_That's a painting! I'm being taken to a common room! It IS the Slytherins after all! Oh NO! OH NO! OH NO!_

Sure enough, the murmurings were louder now, as if the room were full of people.

"Put her in front of the throne…" someone whispered.

_Draco has a throne! Oh my God they really ARE a cult! _

Her fear rose in her throat again as she felt them cuther bindings, replacing them with cruel, hard hands, with iron-like gips,to keep her down.

Then, there was morefumbling at the rope tying the black bag around her head; Katie knew who she'd see whenit came off her face… white blond hair gleaming in a decidedly creepy light…surrounded by his minions.

Yes, Katie had no doubt that the moment the bag was lifted the person she'd see before her was…

"**SARAH!"** Katie shrieked in utter and absolute disbelief.

"Sssssshhhhhh!" hissed Sarah leaning forwards on her yellow armchair. She whispered, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to have one of your best friends kidnapped and brought to you trussed up like a Yule tide turkey, "Katie, glad you could come. I have very important information regarding…well, _you_, that you need to know. It would be highly dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands."

"Wha…How…Huh!" Katie felt the room spin dangerously.

"Shhh!" hissed Sarah again. "I would advise you to keep your voice down. The walls have ears here…"

"But…Sarah!" sobbed Katie.

"No, really! Really, Katie they have _ears_!" said Sarah insistently.

Katie thought vaguely that her friend had gone quite around the bend.

"Yesterday, I kidnapped Ron…"began Sarah.

"WHAT!"esplodedKatie.A gaggle of Hufflepuffs, who'd been lurking in the shadows (Yes! Hufflepuffs! Lurking!) sprang forward, putting their hands over her mouth and hissing "SHHHH! SHHHH!" in unison.

Sarah had recoiled violently from the noise. "Please! Katie! I've been working in a very quiet environment for a while, now, and I've become quite sensitive to noise!"

"YOU'VE FLIPPED YOUR FUCKING LID, SAR-mmmph mmmmmmmmmpphh mmmph!"

"So yesterday, I kidnapped Ron," went on Sarah, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the re-gagged Katie seemed eager to claw her throat open. "And brought him here. Oh, he was a tough nut to crack, but after some excursive interrogation methods he finally spilt his beans…"

_Oh my God, they tortured Ron,_ thought Katie, feeling the room spin for the second time in five minutes.

"And do you know what I found out?" Sarah leaned even closer so that her face was hardly a centimeter away from Katie's, her large blue/grey eyes excessively wide with enthusiasm.

"MMMMPH MMMMHPHM MUUUPMHHMMM MMMOH!" said the struggling Katie, which, without the gag, would have meant, "Sarah I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill you until you are sorry."

"I found out that he's _not_ going out with Hermione!" squeaked Sarah with an expression that would have been radiant joy if it hadn't looked manic.

"Mmmph?" said Katie staring in shock.

"He's NOT going out with Hermione! Hasn't been for months, now!"

"Mmmmnph ummmp mmmmumph?"

"Of course I'm sure! What do you mean 'Am I sure'? My interrogation methods are fail-safe!"

For a moment Katie became lost in ecstasy. _Ron…Ron's been asking me out…He's not a bastard! He's not a serial monogamist! He's…He's…_

_He must think I'm a complete idiot, _she thought suddenly, her heart sinking after its initial lift. _I've got to make it right! I've got to find him and tell him…I'll ask him to go out with me! I'll make the move! I'll make it up to him! _

_But first…_

She came back into the room. She had to get away from the crazies….

Sarah and few of the Hufflepuffs were peering into her face, wondering where she'd gone.

_Oh dear. How was this going happen? _

"Um…Mmmmuph mumphmuphm…" mumbled Katie.

"What? What did she say?" demanded Sarah, as if maybe some of the lesser Huffles had caught it. "Take the gag out. Take it out!"

Someone pulled the cloth out of Katie's mouth.

Katie breathed in thankfully and thought very carefully about what she was going to say next. "Um…Thank you, Sarah, for that…highly…dangerous…information…but I must go now…."

"Go?" Sarah looked confused.

"Well, yes," Katie felt panic gibber at her again. Could Sarah be intending to keep her here forever! Or maybe kill her because, now that Katie knew that Ron wasn't actually going out with Hermione, she was too dangerous to live? "Yes…to put your…HIGLY useful information into action. To…to find Ron…"

Sarah's face brightened. "Oh, of course! Of course! That's what you should do, of course!"

"Oh!" Katie sighed with relief. "Good…"

Sarah turned to the Hufflepuffs. "Don't forget to gag her."

"WHA-" screamed Katie as someone stuffed the cloth back into her mouth and the black bag over her head again.

"Well we can't just let you go," said Sarah as Katie felt ropes rebind her arms and legs. "You could lead them back to our hiding place. That would never do…"

* * *

Ten minutes later, the Hufflepuff escort emerged back in the fateful corridor where they first captured Katie. It had taken longer to carry her back because she'd fought and shrieked and buckled and kicked the entire way, despite her bonds. 

Wearily and gladly, they put her down, trying for gentle but not quite achieving it because of how ferociously she was struggling. Then, quickly and efficiently, they cut her bonds and melted into the shadows as she struggled to rip off the black bag herself and pull the gag out of her own mouth.

The last thing they heard as they stealthily hurried back to their head quarters was the ragged, enraged cry of, "**SARAH!** I KNOW WHERE THE STUPID HUFFLEPUFF COMMON ROOM IS!"

* * *

_**"PERCY!**_" yelled both Arthur and Charlie, leaping to their feet. 

"Order! ORDER!" roared Scrimgeour, glowering furiously.

Harry groaned deeply and covered his face with his hands.

Jess just thought she'd heard wrong and turned about her for confirmation from someone…anyone. A _Weasley_? _Another_ one? He was the first witness? The traitor doing Lucius Malfoy's bidding from within the Ministry?

Lupin stared at the young man emerging from the back of the courtroom and striding to the witness box, lips pursed with displeasure and shock. Shacklebolt took a deep breath and let it out very slowly; his eyes followed Percy Weasley as the younger man took the stand.

"Percy!" cried Arthur. "What are you doing?"

Jess was surprised by the look _this_ Weasley gave his father. If he hadn't fit the genetic blueprint of Weasleyhood ( the bright orange hair and freckles, the pointy nose and lankiness), she would have doubted he belonged to the same family. His expression was one of belittlement and scorn.

"It's alright, Dad," fumed Charlie, grabbing his father's arm and supporting him back into his seat. "He's being a right prick…"

"QUIET." demanded Scrimgeour. "Anymore outbursts from your table, Mr. Potter, and I'll have the lot of you tossed out."

The Defense table fell silent, but Jess could audibly feel the waves of outraged betrayl coming off Arthur and Charlie Weasley.

Carmella rose from her table and approached Percy as the Barrister swore him in. Jess realised that she only had a few moments to quickly ask Harry what was happening.

"He's another of Ron's brothers?" she whispered.

"Yes." he hissed back.

"And he's a Death Eater?"

"Percy? I don't think so…"

"Then why's he helping Lucius Malfoy?"

"I couldn't tell you, Jess. I'm sorry."

She blinked at him, really registering his expression for the first time since they entered this whirlwind of a court. He looked pale and worn and hopeless.

_What am I doing? I have to help Harry! I can't just sit here and gawk, like an imbecile!_

"Don't apologize," she gripped his hand firmly. "You're not omnipotent."

They turned back to the proceedings in time to hear Percy reply to one of Carmella's questions.

"…I knew I couldn't ignore the possibilities that the letter's content was true," said Percy proudly. "I launched an investigation into the possibilities that these muggles were being harboured at Hogwarts and low-and-behold, they were true."

Carmella went to her bench an picked up a sealed clear bag with a flattened piece of paper in it, holding it up to show the court. "Is this the Good Samaritan's letter?"

"Of course that's it," Percy sniffed, then smiled, his nose pointing upwards. "_I_ provided it."

Scrimgeour rolled his eyes. Arthur, Charlie and Harry groaned quietly.

"Prosecution wishes to present item 61275, your honour. Letter from Good Samaritan." said Carmella.

"Proceed," snarled Scrimgeour leaning his jaw on his hand in an abject expression of weariness with all this stupidity.

"Hang on just one sodding minute!" yelled Jess furiously leaping to her feet. Scrimgeour jumped visibly, startled by the sudden outburst, instinctively reaching for his gavel and slamming it down violently. Carmella spun around, staring at Jess in surprise, as if she hadn't anticipated that this girl could make a peep of noise, let alone openly oppose her.

"Order! Order!" yelled Scrimgeour.

"I believe the term is 'Objection, your Honour'." suggested Lupin, leaning forward to whisper to Jess and Harry.

Dumbledoregiggled quietly.

"Objection your Honour!" stated Jess.

"Overruled, Miss…Miss…" Scrimgeour frowned, annoyed.

"Frey," snapped Jess.

"Sit down, Miss Frey."

"_Objection_ your Honour" insisted the girl, still standing. Jess was very aware of the sudden buzz of noise and blinking of camera flashes permeating the atmosphere. She was very aware of the rest of her team sitting perfectly still, expecting her to mess this up. She was also very aware that Harry was gaping up at her fearfully.

_Oh close your mouth, Harry, you're not a goldfish,_ she thought with venom.

"Sit, girl!" howled Scrimgeour.

"I will _not_ sit and I am _not_ 'Girl'. I am Jessica Marie Frey and I stand for the Defense, because someone has to in this hypocritical charade of a court hearing!" she howled back.

"Um…your honour?" began Carmella but Scrimgeour cut her off, flaring his nostrils with frustration at Jess, exclaiming, "But we haven't started the proceedings yet, what have you got to object to?"

"You can't admit that evidence if we've never seen it!" said Jess.

"Yes, well, I've seen it and I think it's relevant so you're over ruled!" replied Scrimgeour.

Jess gaped at him furiously, then sat down heavily, lips pressed firmly together in displeasure.

"Nice try," said Harry softly.

Jess fumed.

"Proceed, Miss Mistlethwaite." snarled Scrimgeour.

"Mr Weasley," said Carmella. "Could you please tell the court why this letter came to your attention?"

"Well, it was the idea that these muggles were harming students at Hogwarts and getting away with it," he turned and glared at Jess hatefully. "THe fact that due to a certain eccentric headmaster's affinity for experimentation with his students' safeties, the education and comfort of people at Hogwarts was being compromised…"

"You little SHITE!" snapped Charlie leaping to his feet.

"For God's sake ORDER!" yelled Scrimgeour losing his patience. "Officers, please escourt Mr. Weasley out of the courtroom!" For a moment the standing aurors were confused as to which Mr. Weasley they should remove, but they quickly scampered to Charlie when Scrimgeour gave them a mortifying glare.

"They saved our father's life, you ungrateful bast-" screamed Charlie as he was being man-handled violently.

"Unlike other people who take liberties with their jobs at this Ministry, I follow protocol," cried Percy at his brother spitefully. "You might believe that five little muggle girls could have stood against The Dark Lord, but don't ask me to be so gullible! Knowing _his_-" Percy pointed at his father as if saying the man's name would leave a bad taste in his mouth. "…knowing _his_ infatuation with muggles, he probably made the whole thing up to help Dumbledore with some odd little plan to embarrass the Ministry!"

"ORDER, DAMMIT!"

"The Ministry, the Ministry! You act like you're the only one who cares about the Ministry, Percy! This is not about the Ministry!" cried Arthur helplessly.

"Well, to me, it is." replied the snot.

"QUIET!" screamed Scrimgeour coming to his feet.

Everyone froze.

"Anymore outbursts," threatened the judge. "And I'll have the perpetrators tossed into Azkaban for a day or two. See how vocal you are after _that_."

In the silence, people could still hear Charlie raging outside the doors to the courtroom where several aurors were detaining him.

"I suddenly don't like _this _Weasley very much," whispered Jess eyeing Percy with distaste.

"There's one in every family," growled Shaklebolt "If you're lucky, they're just mildly eccentric. If you're not, they're nasty little buggers, like Percy Weasley, there."

"My brother Aberforth really liked to wrestle rams, when we were younger…" said Dumbledore mildly, all of a sudden.

"_Rams? _What, like…male goats?" whispered Harry before Jess grabbed his arm to alert him to what was happening on the stand.

"…The first thing we did was launch an investigation to see whether it was true that there were muggles actually residing at Hogwarts. Needless to say, we found a plethora of information confirming our worst fears and many witnesses came forward to corroborate the happenings." Percy looked awefully chuffed with himself.

"And all the witnesses here to day have been thoroughly examined by expert interrogators from the Ministry?" asked Carmella.

"Of course," said Percy proudly.

"I wonder if they used _Veritaserum_…" muttered Harry, gleaning shocked looks from Lupin and Mr. Weasley. "It's just a thought."

"Your Honour," Carmella turned to Scrimgeour. "Be advised that the witnesses mentioned have been agreed upon by the ministry's Interrogative Off-"

"Yes, yes, get on with it." snapped the man, twirling his gavel listlessly in his hand.

Carmella blinked agitatedly for a moment, before continuing with her questioning. "And what conclusion did you arrive at from your investigation, Mr. Weasley?"

Percy paused, for the sake of dramatics, before looking straight at Jess, down the bottom of his nose, and stating loudly, for all the court to hear, "The muggles _are_ openly malicious and harmful to the other students at the school…."

"WHAT!" screamed Harry before he could stop himself. Murmurs exploded from the press in the back rows and cameras flashed like firecrackers.

Scrimgeour rolled his eyes and slammed his gavel down with boredom, as if he'd given up on this crowd. The crowd hadn't so hastily forgotten his threat about Azkaban, though and they fell quite quickly.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," smiled Carmella. "You may step down-"

"Hang on a sec," said Jess loudly, standing up. Percy's hard stare at her had brought her blood to a boil. She was going to burst their little bubble if it was the last thing she did. "I want to question the witness myself now…"

"You've got to be joking…." said Carmella turning to Scrimgeour in disbelief.

Scrimgeour looked at Jess in surprise for a moment, face devoid of emotion as if he didn't know how to react to this. The courtroom was very quiet. Then, suddenly, his lip quirked upwards on its left side. "On the contrary, Miss Mislethwaite. Have you ever heard of a case without Defence? Come forward, Miss Frey. The witness is yours…"

Swallowing hard and egging herself on, while avidly trying to ignore a sudden nervous pressure in her bladder, Jess stepped out from behind the Defence bench. She should have been a lot more scared; she should have been completely unable to move or speak, but Percy's open, shameless ignorance of the true state of things angered her.

_They think they know us. They think they know me, but they Don't Know Me…_

She stood before Percy and seethed beneath his poised, mildly distasted gaze. _HE doesn't even consider me human_… _I'll show you!_

"Mr. Weasley," she began. "Did _you_ write the letter?"

Murmurs of surprise. Percy scoffed at her simple-mindedness. "No, of course not," he looked like he wanted to add _'you silly girl' _to the end of that sentence. "I merely received it…"

"_Merely_?" Jess was acidic in her sarcasm. "Seems to me that no one ever _merely_ receives a letter…."

"Get to the point, Miss Frey," growled the judge.

"Gladly," spat Jess. "Mr. Weasley did you ever wonder who sent you the letter?"

"The Good Samaritan…" Percy had began to answer her with confidence, then, realising how lame he was sounding, stumbled on his words, looking slightly worried.

The press giggled and more camera's flashed. Percy went magenta (quite reminiscently of Ron) and snapped, "Well is that relevant? The letter told the truth!"

"Of course it's relevant because it wasn't telling the truth!"

"Oh _really_! And who do you suppose sent it, then?" Percy was venomously leaning forward in his seat.

"_Lucius Malfoy."_

The low level of noise in the courtroom died to silence to so fast that Jess thought they must have created a vacuum. Then she thought that she'd suddenly gone deaf. _Then_ she realised just how weighty her words were. Even the reporters were hesitating before recording this, looking worriedly towards the Aurors, worried if their recording equiptment was going to be confiscated.

Scrimgeour was sitting straight as a poker in his chair, dumbfounded into numbness.

Percy looked downright nauseous. He was the first to make a sound. "Wha…wha…no!…" He mumbled.

"**OBJECTION!**" shrieked Carmella leaping to her feet.

Noise exploded, sending invisible shockwaves that rocked the room and echoed off the high ceiling as reporters got up to rush to their papers to get _this_ one the first page.

The gavel came slamming down violently and Scrimgeour was no longer messing around. Everyone froze to see how this was going to turn out.

The judge dashed Carmella's objection with one heavy, "Overruled." before he leaned forward, like an old, leering vulture, the tufts of grey hair at the sides of his egg-like head and the frown of his bushy eyebrows flaring like declamation flags, and quietly said, "Miss Frey."

Jess gulped.

He went on. "Do you have any proof of this?"

Jess blinked. "…p-proof?"

"Yes. Proof."

Disappointed murmuring fell like cold water over the flame of enthusiasm she'd started a moment ago. She could hear a couple of groans of discontent coming from the Defence table. Harry and Lupin, it seemed, could not help but vocalise their distress.

"No…I don't have any proof…" she felt like someone had pulled her spine out of her back.

"Then _please_ refrain from tossing around accusations of that extremity," pleaded Scrimgeour with frustration. "Motion to disregard Miss Frey's…bizarre…claim."

Jess went back to the Defence table and slumped down next to Harry. Perhaps it was a testimony to how badly she'd _tanked_ in her attempt at cutting out Percy's testimony that Harry leaned forward and gave her a brief, bracing hug.

"Nice try," he whispered. "We had them for a second, there…"

"We still have them," said Lupin suddenly. "Jess's accusation may be unfounded but it certainly brings a shadow of doubt to Percy's investigation."

Carmella was standing up again, now. "Your Honour, I would like to call in my next witness."

"See?" smiled Lupin. "You've compromised Percy. Taken away his moment of glory."

Indeed Percy looked confused and livid as he stepped down from the witness box, as if he'd been hit by a car and couldn't understand why.

"Right," said Carmella. "Your Honour, I would like to call upon Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy."

* * *

Steph was not impressed when she found herself the only muggle at the breakfast table. She was even less impressed when she realised that this was probably the eighth day she'd gone without coffee and her hands were beginning to shake slightly. This brought to mind other concerns of the muggle kind: like batteries, and deodorant and contact with what she was beginning to think of as 'The Outside World'. 

There were no televisions, in this world, or radios, or phones, or computers, (_or_ newspapers that _weren't_ ridiculous). Sarah had mentioned at one point that the Hufflepuffs had a television in their common room that they watched '_Buffy: The Vampire Slayer'_ on, but apparently without running electricity of some sort the Huffs could only run it for that _one _hour a day when the show was on.

That was nice and all but what would happen when Steph needed other machinery to work? Not even a calculator worked properly inside Hogwarts and she needed one of those for her Algebra. She was already falling frightfully behind on her studies and there was no time to pussyfoot around anymore, considering that she and the girls might actually be back in the muggle world again before too long if the Ministry managed to oust them out of the school.

The thing that bothered her the most, though, was definitely the distinct lack of **coffee**.Why was there no **coffee** in this God forsaken stone refrigerator on the Scottish moors?Stephanie was finding it exceedingly difficult believing that these _wizards_ hadn't heard of **_coffee_**, especially with the amount of homework they always seemed to be getting. Really, **coffee** would make things so much easier to bare rightnow…

Before she knew what she was doing, Steph found herself rising from her seat and heading towards the corridor where Snape's classroom was. She needed to talk to Hermione. She needed to find out where the kitchens were. There was bound to be **coffee** in the kitchens, and Hermione knew where the kitchens were.

Albeit the girl was probably half way through a class right now.

And albeit that class was currently being taught by Steph's worse enemy, Snape.

But **coffee** called.

Or rather her blood called. For **coffee**.

Was she imagining things or could she actually smell it, now?

* * *

Ron and Hermione were just getting out Snape's classroom. 

"Thank God that was over early. I didn't think I could hold much longer!" moaned Ron twisting his legs around each other and clutching his stomach.

"Really, Ron, sometimes I'm amazed by what your sex finds funny. You really overdid that hydrating hex. What would you have done if Snape hadn't let us out early?" tutted Hermione.

"I'd have gone in a beaker…" replied Ron without missing a beat, showing that he'd actually been desperate enough to contemplate this and come up with an actual plan.

Hermione looked horrified. "_Ron!_ That's disgusting! We use those for potions' ingredients!"

"Hermione! Did you have a better solution?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Almost any solution is better than your urine, Ron."

"Oh, ha." he snapped rudely, still standing with his knees together. "Oi, look. Is that Steph coming towards us? She looks a bit ill, eh?"

"Hi Steph," said Hermione frowning.

"Hermione! I need your help!" cried Steph. She was pale as a sheet and her brow was shiny with clammy sweat.

"Are you alright?"

"No, I'm going through withdrawl." replied the muggle shaking ever so slightly. "Where are the kitchens?"

Hermione told her.

"Right," Steph smiled weakly and turned to go. "Thank you." She stopped and turned back. "Why are you out early?"

"Snape had to leave," replied Hermione. "He's going to court to testify against you and your friends, I'm afraid…"

"He _what_!" Steph's slightly muddy gaze turned a fiery neon blue and she gnashed her teeth. "He's _not_ _allowed_ to do _that_!"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other confused. Ron said, "Sorry, Steph, but, mostly, Snape's allowed to do whatever the hell he pleases. Hard to believe, we know. We've had issues with it for years, now…"

"He is **_not_** allowed to do as he _pleases_!" seethed Steph, spittle flying, foot stamping, fists clenched in utter rage. It was obvious that the initial caffeine jitters had morphed into full-fledged enraged shivering. "_I swear, _Severus_… when you set foot in this castle again…_"

They never heard what she intended to do with Snape; she turned towards the kitchens too soon.

"Do you think they're all mad?" asked Ron vaguely.

"Ron, _I'm_ muggle born."

"Um...yeah, Hermione."

"Oh, shut up. We've just gotten ourselves a batch of _really_ weird ones, that's all," replied Hermione watching the redhead stalk away from them.

They watched her for a few more seconds before Ron suddenly groaned in agony and gurgled, "Oh…God…nearest…bathroom…where…"

"Hmmm?" Hermione was still staring after Steph, a mildly suspicious expression on her face. "Oh, there isn't a boy's bathroom on this floor, remember?"

But Ron had already taken off, hobbling, like a madman, in search of a loo.

Hermione stood where she was, deep in thought. "Ron, she called Snape by his first name. What do you suppose that means? Ron?…_Ron?_ Now, where did _he_ get to?"

* * *

"Oh, this is just great," spat Arthur dejectedly. 

"Narcissa?" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "He's letting Narcissa take the stand? Who's next, Greyback?"

"Please don't tempt fate, Harry," muttered Lupin as the courtroom quietened down and Mrs. Malfoy walked up to the podium.

Jess was surprised to note that Draco was very much his father's son. Narcissa was definatly not of the same ashy stock, though blond she certainly was. Her hair was not fine, but thick and ringlet filled, the deep, gleaming gold often described in fairy books but not so often found in nature. Her skin was more peaches and cream than her son's alabaster and her features more heart shaped and rounded than the pointy severity that seemed to run in Lucius' bloodline.

Yet, strangest of all were the few but striking similarities between dame and son. First of all, Draco carried himself like she did, not like his father. Lucius's tread was heavy; Narcissa 'swept', she didn't walk. Draco was the same way; he tended to dance into a room, just as his mother was waltzing in to the witness stand now.

Just before she actually sat down, Narcissa turned and trained her blue-greyeyes on Jess. Yes, Draco had definitely inherited _those_ from his mother…and been taught just how to narrow them maliciously by her, too.

"State your name, please," said the Barrister.

"Narcissa. _Black_. **Malfoy**" said the woman like this was an Earth-shattering revelation.

"Occupation?"

"…Housewife."

"Or bitch from hell…" hissed Harry through gritted teeth. Apparently, he was too loud. Several gasps were heard at the infamous Harry Potter's language and many of the reporters began to frantically scribble instantly. Narcissa's lips barely quirked in his direction.

"Please, Harry," moaned Lupin. "You're not making this any easier."

Harry was humiliated and sank in his seat, cheek bones a fire. This was simply one more heartbreak in a day chalk-full of them, and Jess barely noticed as she leaned forward to stay engaged in what was happening in front.

"Mrs. Malfoy," began Carmella. "You were a student of Hogwarts yourself, were you not?"

"Yes I was," confirmed Narcissa smiling sweetly at the flashing cameras (something else that bore the resemblance to Draco). "I was a Head Girl…"

"Was she ever," sniggered Arthur. Shacklebolt and Harry giggled at this. Lupin rolled his eyes, Dumbledore gave no impression that he'd heard and Jess momentarily felt like if this weren't about her and her friends, she'd gladly switch sides. As with most things, when the guys felt threatened, they turned everything into a sexual slur.

Carmella had turned to give the boys a quietening glare; Narcissa had merely remained aloof and amused as if nothing they could say could ruin whatever she had coming.

"What is your link to Hogwarts now, Mrs Malfoy?"

"My son goes there."

"Your son?"

"Yes. Draco. He's a Prefect at Hogwarts…" gushed Narcissa.

"That's not good," whispered Remus worriedly. "Mentioning that Draco's a Prefect makes him a reliable source. Prefects areusually highly dependable students…"

"And do you keep up communication with your son while he's away?" asked Carmella.

"Of course," replied Narcissa. "Draco may protest, but being sixteen only makes him in greater need of parental guidance."

"From your statement to the Aurors, it has been understood that you've recently had conversation with your son regarding the muggles…" began Carmella.

"She's leading the witness! She's leading the witness!" hissed Remus prodding Jess in the side.

"_Objection_, your honour!" yelled Jess. "She's leading the witness!"

"Rephrase your question, Miss Mislethwaite," Intoned Scrimgeour, twirling his mallet.

"Mrs. Malfoy, have you spoken to Draco recently?"

"Yes."

"Did he talk about school?"

"Yes."

"Could you give us a run down of what he said to you?"

"Is this relevant?" snapped Jess rather rudely.

Scrimgeour slammed his gavel and glared at her. The reporters hissed and murmured like water hitting hot oil.

Narcissa waited till the hubub died down again. None of _her_ words would go to waste. Then she said, "We talked about his social life, his future, girls…" She laughed mischievously at this, then she paused, frowned softly, sadly, fingers curling contemplatively at the corner of her mouth, and said, "Ooh…"

Camera's flashed at this apparently troubled portrait of the otherwise austere socialite.

Jess, who'd been in a resentful slump, perked up like a meer-cat smelling a predator on the wind. _What the hell was **this**? An emotion other than gloating! From a MALFOY? _

"Come to think of it," trilled Narcissa. "He did sound troubled, last time…"

"OH _PLEASE_!"

"Miss Frey! One more outburst out of _you_, and I'll…" Scrimgeour's face was beet red and swollen.

"Yes, yes, sorry, sorry…." muttered Jess, sitting down.

"Troubled?" Carmella coaxed. "Why troubled?"

"Well, his studies were being affected…" answered Narcissa vaguely, as if her memory concerning the conversation was muddy.

"Affected? How?" asked Carmella.

"Negetively." Insisted Narcissa.

"Yes, how, though? What was affecting his studies negatively, Mrs Malfoy?"

"Seems like…" Mrs Malfoy paused for effect. "…seems like there was a new addition to Slytherin House…."

"A new addition?" Even Carmella was wondering where this was going, at this point.

"Oh no…" moaned Jess, head falling face first on to her arms.

"Yes," confirmed Narcissa, as she turned and stared straight at the Defense table. Her eyes met Dumbledore's and her look of studied detatchment turned into one of complete and utter distaste and scorn. "_A muggle." _

"A muggle!" shrieked one of the reporters in disbelief.

"ORDER! ORDER!" Demanded Scrimgeour. Then, "Professor Dumbledore, will you please stand?"

Dumbledore rose to his feet slowly, at his leisure. "Yes, your Honour?"

"What, may I ask, was the train of logic in placing _a muggle_ in the Slytherin common rooms?" wondered Scrimgeour.

There was utter and complete silence in the courtroom; no one wanted to miss _this_.

Dumbledore held his hands apart and shrugged non-challantly, with a slight smile on his face. "There was a free room." he replied sweetly.

Someone giggled from the back of the courtroom. Scrimgeour looked confused. "That is all?"

"Yes." said Dumbledore.

No one else said anything.

It was simple, really.

Disappointingly so.

"Please sit, Professor," pleaded Scrimgeour. "Commence, Miss Mislethwaite."

"So…"Carmella felt a bit lost in her questioning and was frantically leafing through the papers in her hand. Really, how bizarre could this case get! "So…the muggle was negatively affect your son's education?"

"Objection!" slurred Jess, still face down in her own arms. "Leading the witness…"

"No I'm not being led the question's just fine!" snapped Narcissa losing her patience, wanting her say in this matter.

"No the question is _not_ fine, Mrs. Malfoy!" snarled Scrimgeour. "Rephrase, Miss Mistlethwaite!"

"How was the muggle affecting your son's education, Mrs Malfoy!" cried Carmella before she could be stopped.

"The harpie's been torturing him, that's how! She's been disruptive and noisy and abusive! She's been inconsiderate of study periods, ruinous to his social life and prone to bizarre acts of self-involvement despite the other students protesting to her presence in the common rooms!" screamed Narcissa lunging to her feet, bent almost double over the witness stand, directing her tirade at Jess.

The muggle didn't take it sitting down; she too leapt up to her feet and would have scrambled over the Defense table if Harry and Shacklebolt hadn't each grabbed one of her arms to keep her back. "**Well maybe that's because your son's an evil, sadistic bastard, you WHORE!" **Jess howled.

"Your honour!" called Carmella, grinning amidst the chaos. "I'd like to call my next witness!"

* * *

Katie was giddy with happiness. 

Or she was giddy for having her head stuffed in a sack twice on the same day.

Either way, she was giddy. Ron had turned out to be the innocent lamb she'd originally thought him to be. The world was coming up roses, she was seeing pink and Fate was smiling upon her like a doting parent. It was all good. Now, all she had to do was actually find the unfortunate boy and kiss him.

Yes, kiss him. No 'Hello', no 'How do you do?'. Just kissing.

Kissing that would hopefully lead to blissful snoggery.

Yes, she would snog Ron even before they'd had a first date. Katie was a nasty girl. Nasty.

And hadn't the boy been through enough? Really, he needed _some reason_ to give her a third chance!

"Oi…look, Crabbe. It's a muggle…"

Katie froze in her tracks.

"Yeah, yeah! It's that other one that Draco hates. You know, that other…other…other one….that he hates a lot…"

Katie swallowed and turned her head slightly to one side to cast a glance behind her. Sure enough the gigantic, offacious gargoyles otherwise referred to as Crabbe and Goyle were beginning to lumber after her.

She turned her head forward and began to walk as quickly and as calmly as she could possibly muster without breaking into a full run.

"Please go away," she cried desperately. "Please just leave me alone!"

"We will," promised Goyle. "We're going away now. See?" The two boys began to jog, then to sprint as their quarry lunged in a desperate attempt to evade them.

She was too late starting though. A scream of terror escaped her as an arm wrapped itself around her waist and lifted her clean off the ground. For two stupid oafs, Crabbe and Goyle had obviously had practice at man-handling smaller people because they were highly efficient in keeping her arms and legs incheck and throwing her so violently onto her back onto the ground that her head bounced off the corridor cobblestones and she lost control of her limbs, laying limp for a minute, seeing shooting stars and her life flash before her.

"What do we do with her now, take her clothes off?" asked Goyle, looking disgusted at the very idea. "Draco would do that. He'd say it was funny..."

Katie whimpered unhappily on the floor, tears sliding out from underneath eyelids shut against violence.

_All she'd wanted to do was kiss Ron Weasely… __Obviously, God hated her. _

"Yeah, well, Draco's….more mature than we are," said Crabbe reassuringly. "He's always tellin' us so."

_Okay, maybe God was taking pity on her, at last._

"Let's just stomp on her a lot." said Crabbe.

_WHY, GOD, WHY!_

"NO!" screamed Katie, beginning to buck and struggle on the ground, but Goyle had a firm grip on her and was pinning her down, ready for Crabbe's initial endevour at remoulding her innards. "NO! NO! **NO!**"

Crabbe lifted his foot, his face crooked with concentration as he aimed right for her middle. Crabbe's foot was really large and Crabbe himself was really big. Katie could not help but imagine her ribs snapping like twigs and puncturing her tender gizzards upon contact with Crabbe's horrendously over-sized appendage. There was no other fate for her; these brutes would kill her.

Oh, they wouldn't mean to; they obviously had the most innocent intentions of roughing her up for browning points and doggy treats from their nefarious leader. But Crabbe and Goyle did not have the brains to compute that what they could handle while kicking the shit out of each other was quite quite different from what itty bitty Kitty could handle, on the cold, unforgiving floor of the Hogwarts hallway.

So she would die in pain, probably, like the goldfish taken out of its bowl by the well meaning, if sadistic, toddler.

"Ready, muggle?" sniggered Goyle.

_And she'd thought Voldemorte would get her! Ha! How ironic that it would be the inbred spawn of his most backward of followers who would illiminate her like a cockroach… like a muggle…._

_A muggle whose friends weren't even here anymore…_

_The Wizarding World had done its job well. They were separated…her and her friends had been separated…No help was coming…_

_She was doomed…_

"HEY! WHAT"S GOING ON HERE!"

Katie opened her wet eyes and turned her head to stare in disbelief.

There no doors in this corridor, other than the one belonging to an old haunted girls' bathroom, Moaning Myrtle's, and Ron Weasely had just walked out of it, still zipping up his pants.

* * *

Someone had been knocking. 

The painting slid aside and the warden poked his head out of the entryway.

Hufflepuff boy: "Yes?"

Steph: "Get me Sarah. I must speak with Sarah."

Hufflepuff boy: "Le Presidente is busy, at the moment. She cannot be interupt-"

Steph: (leaning forward, grabbing the boy by his lapels and dragging him off his feet so that his face was a centimetre from her own) _"It's a shame that I'm a muggle and can't resort to the clean and tidy little Wizardy ways of getting what I want out of you, say…Cruccio, for example? I might actually have to resort to _filleting you_, one limb at a time. Barbaric, I know, but what can I say? I'm a muggle, after all…"_

Silence.

Hufflepuff boy: (gulping nervously and feeling a distinct dampness around his nether regions) "Um…one…one m-moment…M-Miss Lalonde!"

He disappeared behind the painting, quickly slamming it behind him. Steph could hear murmured deliberations inside the Hufflepuff common room, then the painting slid aside again, this time revealing a rather irate Presedenté, leaning casually to one side, looking very unimpressed.

Sarah: "Why are you threatening my privateers?"

Steph: (through gritted teeth) "Sarah, I have been nowhere near your privates yet but I promise not to kick you in them too hard if you listen to me _very, VERY_ carefully over the next minute or so…"

Sarah: " '_Privateers_' is what I said, and you _better_ believe that you are going no where near either my privates or my privateers. There will be no de-boning of the first years, Stephanie, I _will not_ have it."

Steph: "FINE! Just listen…"

Sarah: "What! I'm busy…"

Steph: "This won't take a moment. I need coffee…"

Silence.

Sarah: "So? Why come to me-"

Steph: ( yelling) "Oh _come off it, Ogle!_ You've been working at Starbucks since youwere sixteen! You always have a stash of good quality Cuban sitting around somewhere!"

Sarah: (close to tears) "Yes, well, that's _my_ stash! MINE! Why the hell should I part with it to help _you!_" (Then, with a sniffle) "You threaten my privateers…"

Steph: "Please, Sarah. _PLEASE. _I _need_ that coffee. You have no idea how I need that coffee…"

Another moment of deliberating silence.

Sarah: (weak with distress) "Why don't you go to the kitchens? The houseelves are bound to have coffee down there…"

Steph: (in hystericaldecibals that would make dog's ears bleed) "I've already been to the kitchens, Sarah! I've already been to the bloody kitchens! And do you know what I've found there! NO COFFEE, THAT"S WHAT I"VE FOUND! The bloody elves have never even heard of fucking coffee, but they did promise to make me some if I come back with some! And then theyproceeded tothe oven doors on their ears and hit themselves over the heads with soup ladles, Sarah! SOUP! LADLES!"

Sarah: (also yelling hysterically, at this point) "YOU WANT THE COFFEE!"

Steph: "YES!"

Sarah: "YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE COFFEE!"

Steph: (with forced calm and restraint) "Sarah, give me the coffee."

Sarah: "NO!"

Steph: "Sarah, give me the coffee."

Sarah: "NÖ!"

Strph: "Sarah, _give_ me the coffee.

Sarah: "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"

Hufflepuff girl: "Presidenté…"

Sarah: "WHAT!"

Hufflepuff girl: "The Battalion is ready to commence operation 'Slytherin Down'."

Silence.

Sarah's eyes widened in panic then narrowed maliciously as they met Steph's and saw the shock and comprehension shine in the other muggle'sbeautiful blue peepers.

Steph: "Sarah….Sarah what are you up to….SARAH!"

The painting had slid shut with a bang.

Steph hammered on it with fists and kicked at it with feet in a complete panic. "SARAH! OPEN THE FUCK UP! SARAH!"

The painting hissed, and Steph leapt back startled as it slid open again. A small silvery foil bag, clearly marked with the Starbucks logo, flew out of the entryway right into her waiting arms. Steph fumbled the grab, so shocked was she, then looked up to see Sarah's resentful gaze rested upon her.

Steph: (worriedly) "Saraaaaaaaah….!"

Sarah: "Ask no questions and receive no lies! You wanted the coffee? You got the coffee! Now go! I have no more time for this!"

The painting slammed shut yet again.

Steph stood where she was, at a complete shock as to what to do now, stop Sarah (who was obviously up to no good) or feed her addiction?

How about both? She'd go down to the kitchens and ask the elves to make her coffee, she'd _down_ the coffee, then she'd rush back up here to stop Sarah?

Yes, that seemed like a feasible plan.

Yes. Very good.

Steph took off down the corridor, speeding towards the kitchen.

* * *

"Could this day get _any_ better?" Remus spoke through the hands he was currently covering his face with, as Severus Snape took the stand. 

In front of him, Harry had made a hard noise of frustration and introduced his face rather violently to the tabletop. Jess took a large, calming, soothing breath and straightened her hurting back against the onslaught to come.

Kingsley glared at Carmella through the proceedings, while Arthur merely leaned his chin on his knuckles, with an unimpressed expression on his face.

Dumbledore studied the impressive architecture.

"Professor Snape," Carmella began. "You have taught at Hogwarts for over a decade, now, haven't you?"

"Yes," droned Snape.

"And before that you were a student at this very school…"

"Objection…"said Jess, more out of habbit than anything else, really.

"I'll rephrase," Even now, Carmella smiled at the muggle sweetly. "In your experience at Hogwarts, sir, have you ever seen anything quite so disruptive to the student body as the presences of these muggle entities on the premises?"

"No," replied Snape flatly. "They are highly irregular…"

"Highly irregular!" Jess tiredly got to her feet again. "As opposed to a basilisk? And frequent visits by Voldemorte!"

Gasps of horror followed her open utterance of the Dark Lord's name. Even Scrimgeour forgot to slam his gavel at her and demand she sit down.

"Can you describe how irregular, Professor Snape?" Carmella barrelled on.

"Yes I can. Just the other day, the muggle placed in Gryffindor house attacked a student from my house…" replied Snape, sneering at Jess.

"Firstly, that's all heresy; it did NOT happen like that!" said Jess with conviction.

"Oh?" Carmella turned towards the girl. "Then, how did it happen, Miss Frey? Did your friend attack this student or not?"

"Well…"Jess stammered at the wrong instant. All she could see in her head were images of Katie launching herself at Malfoy. _But Donia had been missing and they'd hurt her…they'd hurt her friend…_ "Well, yes, but it was justified!"

"Justified!" laughed Carmella. For the first time that day, Jess began to feel a slight dislike for the woman build within her. "Your honour, no violence is justified!"

"Really? Well, tell _that_ to the Slytherins! _AND_ to HIM!" Spat Jess pointing at Snape.

The reporters murmured at the scandle. Snape turned pale with wrath.

"Your honour," pleaded Jess, turning to address Scrimgeour. "All this is heresy and false accusation! If anything my friends and I are the victims here! We were promised protection and shelter for stopping He Who Must Not Be Named in his tracks and all we've found is bigotry and hatred. And when we defend ourselves, this is what we get! A witch-hunt disguised as a trail!"

"Wow," Harry breathed to Remus. "Look at her go. We didn't plan _this._"

"Do you have any opposing witnesses, Miss Frey?" murmured Scrimgeour.

"Do I _what_?" she asked.

"Have opposing witnesses? Ones that will vouch for you instead of against you?"

Jess looked around. Scrimgeour rolled his eyes and quickly said, "Asides from those at the Defense bench, Miss Frey…"

"Well…no…no one told me to bring any…" she blinked, feeling close to tears.

"Well, then, you may sit down and listen to the rest of the proceedings and I shall deliberate and offer a verdict at the end." said Scrimgeour.

"But…but your Honour!" begged Jess.

"I have taken your words into consideration, Miss Frey, now I must impress upon you that no more outbursts be allowed to occur during these proceedings. Do you understand?"

She stood in silent shock.

"Do you understand, Miss Frey?"

"Yes…yes…your honour."

Jess sat down.

* * *

_Ron…_

"_Ron…"_

"Ron!"

His first thought was it was Hermione; they'd been in another horrendous adventure with Harry and he'd gotten hurt…again.

There were familiar pains in his body, his chest, his arms…his _face!_ He coughed and it felt like the bones of his sinuses were grating against each other. Something thick and fleshy and saltly slithered down his throat making him gag.

_That was lot of clotted blood…_

He couldn't really breath out of his nose.

"Oh Ron! Please wake up!"

_Hermione! Hermione was in trouble!_

He opened his eyes and blearily searched for the girl calling his name…

His heart leapt.

The halo surrounding the face was of tinsel gold, not the warm brown he'd come to know and love so well.

For a moment his mind really did jump to the clichéd conclusion that this face was angelic. After all, why would such a conventionally beautiful girl be so worried about _his_ health unless it were her job!

Then he realised that he knew this face. And then his heart leapt again because though finding Hermione kneeling over him would have incited old, warm feelings and bitter sweet pain in his chest…Katie's face brought a fresh feeling, a sensation of excitement fluttering _though_ the pain, _through_ the nausea, through the taste of his own bodily fluids, to alight wonderfully on his heart and make him feel like a hero.

A hero.

He remembered now. He remembered why he was splattered all over the corridor floor like a dropped egg.

_Katie_!

………Aaaaaaaaaand Crabbe and Goyle.

"_OH RON!_" sobbed Katie, throwing her arms around him as soon as she realised he was conscious. _"You SAVED me!_ No boy's ever done that for me before!_"_

"Why? Are life threatening experiences a regular occurrance around you?" moaned Ron trying to sit up, then moaning weakly as he realised that required moving.

Katie never hear him. "Oh Ron you were wonderful! Especially because you obviously had no chance!"

"You sure know how to make a boy proud, Katie!" he whimpered.

"You're my hero…" purred Katie.

"Oh God! How does Harry do it…" he began.

Then he was silenced by Katie.

Or rather….he was silenced by Katie's lips.

_Girls…girls really were a heavenly creation….Really. They were better than…better than…better than food, even. _

For a moment, Ron could honestly say that he could not feel any pain whatsoever. For a moment, everything was alright; he was happy with who he was, with his long nose and outrageous hair, being the youngest male Weasley and Harry Potter's best friend and Hermione Granger's ex-boyfriend. He didn't mind Snape and his virulent loathing for Draco Malfoy and all things Slytherin slid into a mild indifference that was soothing and pleasant and really inconsequential. He felt happy about it all because this girl…_this_ girl thought him worthy.

And called him a hero.

And had soft, warm sweet-peach lips and velvety breath that tasted of…lots of candy…

She pulled back, anxiously searching his face for a response, biting her bottom lip nervously.

His eyes were hazy. Now, that could be because he was liking it….or he was quickly bleeding to death….

Ron didn't care, though. He had two thoughts in his concussed head right now, and those two thoughts consisted of:

1. She's _worried_ about what _I_ think! A GIRL….is WORRIED….about what **_I_** think! This is GREAT!

2. If nothing else…I'll taste candy every time I kiss her! I could get used to this…

"Ron?"

"…..umph?"

"I…I'd like to go out with you…if you'll still have me…"

Ron groaned as all the pain came rushing back in a blinding flash. Somehow during the kiss, he'd managed to prop himself up against the corridor wall.

Her asking him that made him slither all the way down again and bounce his head off the floor once more. His vision, to say the least, spun and cycled.

"Oh RON! RON!"

_This girl was going to kill him…. She was going to be the death of him! He'd just offered his body up as a punching bag for her! And she was still not sure! _

_Because the incoherent mumbling after she'd kissed him wasn't clue enough! _

_What did he have to do, literally bleed for her! Oh WAIT…._

"Ron! Ron just…just give me an answer and I'll go get Madame Pomfrey! I'd…I'd get her first but I'm afraid I won't geta chance to talk to you then, and I'd justDIE if I had to wait to find out if you'd go out with me!" Katie rang her hands guiltily.

"K-K-Katie…" he wheezed. "I .._am_…dying…"

"Oh it won't take a second, Ron, please!"

"Will…you …still…go…fetch…her…if…I…say…'No'?" he coughed out of curiosity.

There came no reply.

Ron had a feeling the answer was 'I'd finish you off, you bastard.' so he killed the joke pretty quickly and yelled, "YES! YES! I'll go out with you, you _lunatic_ muggle!"

"_Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!_" screamed Katie leaping to her feet and jumping up and down hysterically. _"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!_"

"Katie! KATIE!" Ron howled as he sank into blackness once more. "Go….get….Pom…frey…."

* * *

"Mr. Filch," Carmella flipped through her papers to the page of questions for Filch. "Would you say your work has increased since the arrival of the muggles? Or decreased?" 

"Decreased!" barked Filch. "There's definatly more of it!"

Jess stared. Was Carmella aware that her witness was an imbecile?

"And they kick me cat!" he added for good measure.

"Oh come on!" protested Jess. "That's just not fair! _Everyone_ kicks Mrs. Norris…"

* * *

Steph exploded into the kitchens. 

"Elves! Elves! Look, elves! Look! I brought coffee! Now make me coffee!"

The elves looked at her, then at each other worriedly. One of them, a leader amongst his kind, as Steph had previously identified from her past foray into the kitchen, called Dobbie, came forward and said, "Miss Stephanie has the happy powder?"

"Yes!" gurgled Steph. "Yes! I have the happy powder! Now where's your coffee maker?"

Dobbie looked hesitantly back at his own kind then said, "Miss Presidenté Sarah sent one down. She told Dobbie to give Miss Stephanie a note with the scary maker of the happy potion."

Two little house elves, one in a precariously cut mitten and the other wrapped in a strategically tied hand towel, hauled out an honest to goodness authentic, North American coffee machine.

Steph felt her heart expand with her chest. "Sarah….sent _this_?" _God, she loved that girl!_

The redhead bent down gently, trying not to start crying, so touched was she by Sarah's devotion, and tore the cello-taped note off the black, plastic top of the thing.

It read: _Dear Stephanie,_

_Enjoy the coffee machine. You won the coffee fair and square._

_Love,_

_Sarah._

_P.S._

_Did I mention there's no electricity in Hogwarts? _

* * *

Minerva McGonagal was halfway through a very important sentence on the reasoning behind standing back to back when casting spellsin a first year transfiguration class, when a blood-curdling shriek of doom reverberated from the bowls of the castle to the highest, most remote corner of the astronomy tower. 

Even the giant squid made a deep, low sound of fear and quickly vanished beneath the lake's dark surface.

Thesound seemed to comefrom the kitchens.

* * *

"Those girls emotionally assaulted me!" wept Madame Pince, her mole quivering nervously, her nose dripping wetly. Her lipstick was smeared and her hands shook miserably. "I…I haven't stopped….crying….in daaaaaaaayyyysss!" 

Jess said nothing. This one, she believed, was justified. That wasn't exactly helping their case, though.

The muggle simply hunched her back in shame and prayed that this hell would end soon.

* * *

It was dinnertime. 

The classes were spilling their guts and the Hufflepuffs were in place, down the corridor where the entire class of third year Slytherins would be walking in a minute.

"Presidenté, you should retire to safety," suggested Hannah Abbot unwaveringly.

"Not on your life, Left-tenant," snapped Sarah. "I wouldn't miss this for the world! It's our first strike against The Enemy! I want to be there when their platoon of third years mysteriously goes missing!"

"Presidenté," A fourth year boy came running up the hallway. He knelt before Sarah for a split second, then leapt to his feet and said, "The Slytherins are at the end of the corridor before this one. They should be upon us in approximately fifteen seconds…"

"Great," Sarah shivered in anticipation and licked her lips. "Let's blow the top off this castle…"

* * *

"They stole my gardenias!" cried the decrepit, old bag on the witness stand as several pigeons tried to escape the confines of her purse and hat. 

"_Who ARE you!"_ asked Jess, incredulously.

* * *

Donia had a carton of mint and chocolate-chip ice-cream in one hand and was busily spooning huge portions of it into her mouth with the other when she rounded the corner on the impending Slytherin attack. Lars had given her the ice-cream. Apparently it was a special wizard's brand that didn't melt in the heat. 

All she'd wanted was to eat ice-cream.

"Donia!" Sarah leapt forward. "Good! You're here! You're just in time…"

If Donia's mouth had not been so gummed up with ice-cream (or maybe if she'd just not been shocked mute) she would have said, "Just in time for what?"

As it was, Sarah turned to her and said, "I knew you wouldn't let me down! I knew you'd help with the attack!"

And if the bottom of her stomach hadn't suddenly dropped out of her arse, Donia would have liked to say, "Attack! What attack!"

There she stood , a silver spoon ina mouth full of ice-cream that was _not_ melting or making her tongue less numb, and a carton of mint and choco-chip in hand, looking like a deer-in-headlights, eyes swivelling from side to side as she scanned her surroundings for the fastest exit out of this situation.

"SARAH!" came the angry roar.

Donia's eyes widened in panic and she stood truly petrified, unable to flee the scene.

Sarah turned slowly.

Oh dear.

Steph had gotten her gift.

* * *

Scrimgeour sighed. 

"Will the Defense please stand."

They did.

"From what I've heard from these proceedings, Miss Frey, I have to agree with the Ministry's stance on this subject matter. You and your friends not only appear to be a disruptive influence on Hogwarts, but it is also evident that you harbour malicious intent towards the student body and the faculty."

Jess's head drooped.

Camera's flashed and the reporters murmured hungrily and began getting up out of their seats, anticipating a quick and firm verdict and dismissal. After all, it was pretty obvious…

"You seem adamant that your activities at Hogwarts were justified," continued Scrimgeour despite the noise. "But I say that you'd have to be severly attacked if one is to consider what I have heard on this stand today justifiable."

_I hope you're happy,_ seethed Jess close to tears. _You've just signed our death warrants. Some thanks for stopping Voldemorte…_

"Therefore, I have decided that you and your muggle companions are to be extricated from Hogwarts…"

Jess burst into tears.

"…_Unless you can prove to me that you are indeed bullied by the student body and have needed to defend yourself in the past against bodily harm._"

Harry gave a great shout and almost fell backwards over the bench. Shacklebolt and Remus were both gaping like guppies at the judge as if he'd been speaking another language entirely. Indeed, Arthur Weasely actually kept asking, "What? What did he say? What did he say?"

And Dumbledore?

Dumbledore smiled a little.

The reporters were on fire! They had absolutely no idea what to do with this!

Carmella stood frozen in disbelief. Was this judge actually giving these muggles another chance!

Jess turned her wide, red, teary eyes up at the vastly amused Judge.

"W-wh….what….?" she panted on the verge of fainting.

"You have twenty four hours. Do not make me regret this decision," snapped Scrimgeour, slamming down his gavel. "Adjourned!" Then he subtly turned to Dumbledore and said, "Happy?"

"Oh, quite. " confirmed the headmaster quietly.

Jess looked from one ancient man to the other, but could find no word to express her consternation besides, "…What?"

* * *

Steph got to the top of the stairs just in time to see Donia and Sarah and a bunch of the Hufflepuffs standing in a highly suspect position halfway down the corridor. 

"SARAH!" she began. Then she took in the situation and the guilty look and Donia's face and stopped dead in her tracks. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" cried Sarah instinctively.

Donia's eyes swivelled silently from one girl to the other anticipating a problematic situation.

"Nothing! I don't believe that for one fucking second, Sarah!" screamed Steph, hair flaring out around her head, finger pointing like she could stab with it and actually draw blood.

She turned on the silent Slytherin muggle. "And _you! YOU! _What are you doing helping Sarah! You're obviously up to no good as well! What the hell do you think you're doing? You _promised!_"

Donia merely stood as still as stone and stared at Steph wondering whether this day could get any worse. All she'd wanted was ice-cream, dammit! Ice-cream! Just _ice-cream! _Was that too much to ask?

"Mind your own fucking business, Stephanie!" Sarah seethed. "Donia say something!"

The Slytherin muggle pulled the spoon out of her mouth. "I can't break my promise, Sarah...

"_WHAT!" _howled Sarah. "I am so disappointed in you..."

"Leave her out of it, Sarah!" yelled Steph.

"Stay out of it, Lalonde!"

"Not on your life, Ogle! Not after that stint with the coffee machine! I owe you one!"

"What! And risk a detention!"

"Never you mind about me and my detentions! You are NOT to go on with whatever hairbrained plan you've got in the works, understood?"

"No! Not understood! I'm a free agent! I do as I please!"

"You promised no violence!"

"Well, it was a stupid promise!" Sarah exploded. "It was a stupid promise and I'm breaking it because someone has to! I was waiting for _her_…" Here she pointed at the silent Donia accusingly. "…I was waiting for _her _to snap and do something but now _I'm_ taking action!"

"Sarah! You will_ not_ do this!"

"I'm going to do as I bloody well please! You're just upset about the coffee machine!"

"Sarah,"begged Steph earnestly. "We have to wait to hear the verdict! Please! We have to wait till Jess gets back…"

"Hey, guys guess what!" cried Katie running up. Then, she stopped, seeing the warning glare in Donia's eyes and said, "Why are we standing around here?"

"Oh good, you're here, too." said Sarah handing her a quidditch bat. "Here, take this. Aim for heads."

"What are we doing?" asked Katie bewildered, staring at the big stick in her hands.

"_We're_ not doing anything!" insisted Steph.

Donia said nothing.

"We're attacking the Slytherins," said Sarah.

"Presidenté! They are almost upon us!" whispered Hannah Abbot furiously.

"I thought we weren't going to!" Katie's long eyelashes batted back tears of frustration. _Could she NOT_ _escape a beating today! _"We're not allowed! Jess said…"

"This is war!" snapped Sarah. "You all have your own brains! You've seen what it's like. We've tried Jess' way and I for one absolutely loathe it. So it's up to you individually, now. Do. We. Fight?"

* * *

Walking down to where the Kelloggs box was waiting to transport them back to Hogwarts, Jess could do nothing but wrack her brains for a solution to this puzzle she'd been presented with. 

On the one hand she was relieved beyond measure that Scrimgeour had given her a day to come up with a defence.

On the other hand…twenty-four hours? And how was she to prove that her and her friends were indeed justified in their behaviour at Hogwarts? It was a bleak, bleak picture.

The thing that troubled her the most was the creeping realisation that whatever manoeuvre she'd have to use it would be to _trick_ the Slytherins into implicating themselves. She'd be breaking her own rule.

Her own rule of non-violence.

Could she do that? Jess was not sure she was ready to take that step and make a conscious decision to aggress on a human being's life, no matter how deserving they were.

She did not understand how her friends found such behaviour so easy to carry out. Didn't it upset them at all? Didn't it chafe? Didn't they ever feel guilty about it?

Harry took her hand as they climbed the platform to get to the portkey. She barely noticed, but did feel slightly soothed by the fact that he was perceptive enough to leave her alone as she thought. Jess had come to realise through this whole ordeal that if nothing else, meeting Harry Potter would make their short stint in the Wizarding world worth while for her.

She barley noticed the sudden jarring sensation as her and the her escort landed back at Hogwarts, and did not reply when they called their goodbyes. Instead she took off down the hall, walking alone, lost in thought and a moral dilemma that prevented her from sensing the electrified buzz of mischief permeating the air in the hallway she was walking into.

She rounded the corner and it hit her in the face. The scene that unfolded before her shocked her out of her reverie. There were her friends standing in an awkward looking circle, staring at each other with a range of emotions from confusion to rage, with an all-out war happening around them, between third year Slytherins and a handful of upper year Hufflepuffs. Most of the Slytherins had fled, but a handful had stayed out of utter disbelief that this could be happening to _them! THEM!_ The house that ambushed people! Despite their size advantage the Huffs weren't doing too well and the Slytherins were starting to gang together and start casting glances at the frozen muggles.

Jess took in the situation instantly.

Her friends were waiting for her; all of them, even the ones that disagreed with her.

It might appear sometimes that they were separated, that this strange, exotic,brutal place had won…but when it came down to it, they still instinctively bunched together, even if it meant they were going to be defeated together.

Jess did not want her friends to be defeated. She could not stand the Slytherins. The Slytherins had fucked them over royally, at court, be it through Lucius Malfoy or his wife or Snape, and they were about to fuck them over royally _now_ too, if they didn't so something.

Jess was sick and tired of doing nothing.

As her four friends turned towards her, surprised that she'd shown up at such a crucial moment, she found that she only had one real answer for them.

Jess looked into the question held in Sarah, Steph, Donia and Katie's eyes and she answered it from the deepest, most sincere part of her heart.

"Get the fuckers."

* * *

_The next chapter includes:_

_- A letter to Uncle Alfie._

_- Sarah Ogle._

_-Pot... not the kind that flowers are grown in._

_-Sarah Ogle._

_-Massive amounts of blue dye._

_-Sarah Ogle_

_-Muggles going to magic classes._

_-Electricity._

_-Video cameras._

_-Boot camp for Hufflepuffs._

_-Revenge._

_-The Twins._

_-Did I mention Sarah Ogle?_


	10. United: A Muggle Offence Part 1

**Ahoy, maties! **

**Actually I don't feel very chipper right now, I'm down right exhausted. SO sorry about how long it took to churn this chapter out. I had a full time job that took a lot out of me this summer though it was a fantastic job and I AM ETERNALLY GREATFUL PLEASE GOD DON'T STRIKE ME DEAD. ANd i was in denial for a long, long time about me getting the whole trial and Sarah's big moment and everything all out in one chapter. But then I hit my 60 page mark and Katie, forever my wonderful Beta reader, handed me my Prozac and talked me into splitting the exciting events into TWO chapters instead of one. So for those of you wondering why I don't write shorter chapters...I am. But my shorter chapters are now getting as big as my big ones used to be! (Cries a little) Ehem. No matter. (Wipes bleeding fingers on PJ pants).**

**I'd love to thank Jon for reading the first half of this and of course no amount of thanks will ever express the glee I feel everytime my Beta reader, Katie, screams with happy laughter. That's when I know I must be doing something right:)**

**So enjoy!**

**Peace, Love and Semi-Automatic Riffles,**

**Spite**

**P.S This chapter and the next one are dedicated to Sarah, first for a belated birthday, and second for the nasty scare the got at the doctor's the other day. Love you, Babé.**

**Chapter 10. United: A Muggle Offence (Part 1) **

It had rained heavily all afternoon, working it's way into the early evening; but as the muggles lounged on Hogwarts' front stairs, enjoying the post-fight lull, the drip ceased, momentarily splitting the heavens in a great, glowing crack through which the red and pink sunset seeped like strawberry syrup.

Sarah took a deep drag on her fag and past it generously to Donia who silently received it and took her one and only taste of it.

"Sarah," sighed Steph.

"Yeah, yeah," replied Sarah dismissively, but she took the cigarette back.

They sat together in silence, leaning back on their elbows or resting their heads back on arms folded like pillows beneath their skulls. Katie was actually curled up on her stomach, chin in her left hand, looking up thoughtfully at the forbidding face of the castle and seeing it in a new light.

"So," said Donia, appearing to speak to no one in particular. "Do you have a plan?"

"I'm starting to get one," Jess murmured, running her hand under her nose and staring when it came away bloody. "I'm not sure it'll work, though. It requires electricity…"

"That won't be a problem for much longer." said Steph, dabbing lightly at a gash on her forehead.

"You're dealing with _that_, then, are you?" Donia tenderly put her hand up and felt the swollen circumference of her freshest black eye.

"Oh yes."

"Good. That leaves me to deal with the courtroom stuff," said Jess, pinching the bridge of her nose and leaning her head back in a half-assed attempt to staunch the flow. "I might need help…"

"I'll help," mused Katie airily. She was still looking up at the castle serenely, as she curiously poked at her swollen, torn lip, morbidly fascinated by the sharp pain it supplied.

"Thanks," Jess looked up at Gryffindor thankfully, before turning back to the sunset beyond the great lake. "What are _you_ two going to be up to?" she asked the air in general.

A cloud scuttled across the waning sun, as if to hide it's shameful orangey-pinkness.

"Draco," said Donia casually. "I want my supper soup to be that boy's blood, sweat and tears."

"Yeah," mused Sarah, letting out a puff of smoke in consecutive rings and enjoying the vengeful throb of her twisted ankle. "Yeah. We'll handle the Slytherins."

Rain began to dribble again, in a heavy, insistent 'whoosh'.

Sarah's Uncle Alfred was doing the last of his fall gardening, taking advantage of the soft soil (it had rained, the previous evening), when an owl, an honest-to-goodness Screech owl, landed next to him, in his Begonias, and lifted it's left leg to indicate the roll of oddly textured paper tied there.

It was a letter from his niece, Sarah. It read:

_Dear Uncle Alfie,_

_How are you? How are the Begonias? I hope you're doing well. How's your parole officer? I hope he's a nice one, _this_ time. Are you allowed to travel abroad yet? You'd wanted to go to Greece with Butch, the last time we'd spoken. _

_How _is_ Butch? Have you had your seventh year anniversary yet? I think it's absolutely adorable that he had your name tattooed on his right buttock, despite what Mother and Father say about it being vulgar. I hope _his_ parole officer's nice too._

_As you've probably heard through the family grape vine, by now ( or not, considering that no one else really talks to you in our family) I've managed to get myself into a witness protection program of sorts. And I'm only seventeen! Yeah, I know; I make you proud. _

_The crux is, they've put me and my friends in this institute for our protection but it's a lot like prison in that we don't get everything we want a lot of the time and the other, older inmates kids tend to want to break us in, if you know what I mean. So, I was wondering if you could send me and my friends a few things to tide us over while we're here, on the 'inside'. We're going to need batteries, walkie-talkies, six packets of cigarettes, ten bags of Columbian coffee from Starbucks (dark blend), four male black wigs, one male platinum blond wig, three black female wigs of varying length, a digital video camera and if you could send us bundles and bundles of your strongest home grown 'leaf oregano', that would be **highly** appreciated too. I know your parole officer can't know your growing this stuff, and that it's the main source of your income besides the free-lance work Butch does on the side, so I promise it won't fall into any of the wrong hands._

_Thanks a **bunch**, Uncle Alfie. I always knew you were _awesome.

_Love, _

_Little Sorcha._

Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, enjoying the sour tang of an acid pop when he heard the thunderous stomping of angry feet rushing up the stairway to his room.

Before he could do more than take a second to muse over who'd lost it all together _already_, this morning, his door exploded open, swung violently into the wall behind it and bounced closed with a reverberating slam that seemed to threaten the very foundations of his office.

There was a silence as he gave the enraged beast time to recuperate after taking those stair three at a time. Then, Professor Dumbledore said (still clutching his acid pop), "Good morning, Miss Lalon-"

"DON'T 'GOOD MORNING' _ME_!"

"Very well. Would you like an acid pop?" the Headmaster opened a little wooden cigar box in front of him, which incidentally turned out to be full of acid pops, lined up side by side.

Steph stared at him, taken off guard. "What-? No! _NO! _Don't _offer _me stuff! I'm here to _demand_ stuff! So don't _offer_ it to me!"

"Suit yourself; they're good acid pops," Dumbledore leaned back in his plush chair and looked at the distraught girl over his neon green lolli. "So….demand away."

Steph felt her stomach knot and seethe. _How dare he pretend like it was all good and done when she knew perfectly well that the moment she demanded what she wanted to demand it would be over! The calm façade would disappear and he'd be roaring at her to get out of his office! _

"I demand electricity in this cesspit of a school!" she shrieked, fists balled by her sides.

"Done!" cried Dumbledore enthusiastically.

"I can't understand what possessed you to bring muggles into an environment where we are so effectively crippled by the lack of working technology!" continued Steph enraged.

"Precisely!" cheered Dumbledore, bringing his fist down on his desk. "I'm surprised it took you so long!"

"I…what?"

"I'll get Professor Vector on it right away! Anything else while you're here and demanding?"

Steph glared. Was it just her imagination or was there an amused twinkle in those ancient, patient eyes? She had the sudden feeling that maybe she wasn't the only student, magical or otherwise, who had ever exploded into the Headmaster's office.

"Miss Lalonde-?"

"Yes, I have something else to say!"

"And what might that b-"

"We'll be going to classes from now on so DON'T TRY TO STOP US!"

With that, she left his office, slamming the door shut behind her again so that the paintings of past Headmistresses and Masters of Hogwarts swung slightly in the breeze it made. The characters inside the frames gripped their chairs desperately or went chasing after toppled hats and effects, protesting the quality of student coming in through the school, these days.

"Wouldn't dream of it." murmured Dumbledore, thoughtfully suckling on his acid pop.

Steph was quite flustered as she descended the moving staircase from Dumbledore's office. She stepped out beyond the archway and the frowning stone gargoyle, which had been expressly made to stand guard against intruders of said nature, pounced back into place, preventing further trespass.

"So?" said Donia peeling herself apart from one of the more shadowy crevices and advancing forward to greet her friend. She dragged a quivering first year Ravenclaw with her; her fist was twisted chokingly in the eleven-year-old's shirtfront. "How did it go?"

The first year whimpered helplessly.

"Quiet, you." mumbled Donia giving the little quivering blob of jelly a couple of firm shakes.

"It was…." Steph paused to think. _How WAS it, exactly? _She certainly hadn't expected to get as far as she had so fast. "….surprisingly easy, actually…."

Donia grinned devilishly, effortlessly forgetting the first year who was turning blue in the face and trying to claw her way out of the towering sixteen-year-old's grip. "Bet you scared him half to death."

Steph raised a cynical eyebrow. "Says the girl who's got a firsty by the throat."

Donia looked confused. "What? Oh!" She turned to the first year and grabbed the little thing with both hands, lifting the poor child clean off her feet.

"Now listen…_thingy_…."said the Slytherin as the first year cycled in midair and dangled helplessly. "You've done a massively good job telling us the Headmaster's password, so I'm not going to hurt you. At least, not now. But you're going to keep yourself available, do you hear? So long as you're co-operative, your safety's guaranteed. Disappear on me, kid, and I promise you, I'll find you. And_ when_ I find you, I'll make it so you can't ever be found. Got it?"

The little thing, with big, desperate eyes, and frazzled pigtails bobbed its head nervously.

"Good answer. Now fuck off." Donia put her down and sure enough, the firsty scuttle off like a pack of dragons were after her.

Steph watched in fascination before saying, "What career choice do you see yourself alighting upon after school?"

Donia shrugged, then put her hands in her pockets as they strolled on down to breakfast together. "Debt collection." she mused, then began to whistle lightly.

All the nurses that had seen their life's work within the Infirmary at Hogwarts had always had a secret door which led straight to the Headmaster's office, for use in times of emergency. This door was quite miraculous simply because, architecturally, the Head Master's office and the Infirmary were on opposite ends of the castle.

Madame Pomfrey had used her secret door many times since Harry Potter's induction into this school, but she had not anticipated its use _this_ early in the year. Only October, and already she was stepping into the broom closet in her own office.

Madame Pomfrey stuck her arms out in front of her face, feeling subconsciously for the familiar gritty feel of the back of her closet. Her fingers hit the splintery surface and descended to grip a well worn, ancient doorknob in the darkness. Without a second thought, she twisted it, causing the back of the closet to swing open into Dumbledore's brightly lit office, with his whirring knick-knacks and ticking timers.

The Headmaster pulled his acid pop out of his mouth and turned to face the grey-haired matron stepping out of his cupboard.

"Poppy," he greeted her pleasantly.

She had something very important to tell him, but it flew out of her mind completely upon seeing the open box of acid pops on his desk.

"Albus!" she pointed at the sweets. "Are those yours?"

Dumbledore's face betrayed no emotion as he strove to think of the best answer to give. Madame Pomfrey, experienced in dealing with greedy children, was _not_ fooled.

"How many of those have you had today?" she demanded.

Dumbledore sighed. "Too many, I fear."

"More than four?" she brandished her finger at him.

"I believe this is my sixth…"

"You mustn't have any more, Albus; you'll get a toothache, and I have much more important things to attend to at the moment."

"I'm sorry, Poppy, of course you do. The last thing I intend to do is add to your workload, which, I am guessing, is why you're here. Has it increased noticeably?"

"Yes."

"Already?"

"Yes."

"But it's October."

"Tell _that_ to your students, Professor!"

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry, Poppy. What's happened?" Dumbledore rose from his seat and approached his agitated employee.

Madame Pomfrey sighed wearily and took a moment to compose herself before commencing. "I think you better come have a look."

Steph and Donia strolled into the Great Hall together, the Slytherin muggle still whistling a dandy, her hands in her pockets. Steph was actively fluffing her hair attractively and neither of them gave any notice to the jeering that erupted upon their entry. They merely kept walking to the Gryffindor table where Sarah, Katie and Jess sat with Harry, Hermione and Ron.

This vision of a unified front surprised the sneering Ravenclaws so much that the noise abruptly ceased. The muggles seemed too comfortably unfrazzled for five fugitives who were on the point of being tossed out of school. What did this mean? _And WHY was the Gryffindor muggle snogging RON WEASLEY!_

"Top o' the morning to you, ladies," said Steph as she and Donia took their places at the table.

"Hi," said Sarah.

Katie and Ron stopped sucking face for one glowing moment where they turned with a "Hello!". She and he had been holding hands like they were glued together since he'd been released from Madame Pomfrey's that morning.

Jess, who was having a very involved conversation with Harry, turned to smile and wave before continuing her conversation.

"Those two plotting to keep us in school?" asked Steph sitting with her back to the table and her legs stretched outside the bench to observe the Great Hall.

"Yeah," said Sarah, currently distracted by what the Slytherin was up to.

Donia had straddled the bench in a very unladylike fashion; she stole a piece of toast off Ron's plate ( he was too busy to notice) and pulled Katie's hot chocolate towards herself.

"That's not yours," said Sarah.

"Neither's oxygen, but no one seems to mind me breathing it." shrugged Donia through a mouthful.

"I mind you breathing it, muggle," said a sneering voice from behind them.

They'd only been at Hogwarts for three weeks, now and already they had no trouble identifying Draco's tenor.

Donia didn't even flinch. "My _God_, Sarah, do you hear that squeaking?"

Sarah looked very confused. "Why yes, Donia. Yes I do. I do hear squeaking, what could it be?"

Donia: "Sounds like Hogwarts might have a bad ferret infestation, to me…"

Several of the eavesdropping Gryffindors sniggered.

"Muggle-" began Draco threateningly.

"Sod off to your own table, Malfoy," Harry said shortly.

Draco gave him a superior glare. "Why don't you try and make me, Pott-"

Someone from the Slytherin table dropped an entire tray of charbroiled sausages with a loud crash that seemed to betoken disaster. Sausages were flying and bouncing everywhere. Lars, who'd been reading, had his book and spectacles spattered all over with milk and remained staring at the roll of meat in his goblet for quite sometime in total and utter surprise.

Quite a few of them had toppled right into Blaise Zabini's lap so she was currently on her feet swearing at everyone in sight like an enraged banshee.

Quite a few of the Professors were staring at the Slytherins with expressions that betokened a thankfulness that they weren't the heads of _that_ house.

Snape didn't even seem to notice. He continued eating his breakfast, unfazed.

Jon's voice could be plainly heard over the rest of the Slytherin babble, crying, "Oh dearie me, woops-a-daisies, balderdash, oh woe, oh woe. I've dropped the sausages! I tried to grab as many as I could! I mean I love grabbing sausages just as much as the next bloke, eh, Draco?"

Draco, looking suddenly very tired, rolled his eyes in annoyance and quickly doubled back to his table.

"That was bizarre." remarked Ginny.

"Why's Donia laughing?" wondered Dean Thomas.

Harry watched Draco go with an openly irritated expression. "I don't think of myself as a callous person, but sometimes I'd really just like to rearrange his face…"

"Please don't," said Jess spreading peanut butter on a bun. "Donny will cry."

"I thought she hated him."

"She does," Jess bit into a bun. "Loathes him with every fibre of her being. But she wants his face intact when she hangs his head over her fireplace."

Jess reached for the black current jam.

A shadow fell across the black current jam.

"Hello Harry."

Jess, who still had her hand on the black current jam jar and wasn't looking, heard something hit the floor and felt splashes of something cold drench her leg; Harry had apparently dropped his goblet of orange juice.

"Ch-ch-ch-ch-"

"Cho! Hello," said Jess on Harry's behalf.

Cho looked startled for a second. She didn't appear to have seen Jess sitting there. For a moment the muggle felt slightly insulted, until a look of utter horror and panic flitted across Cho Chang's face and the Ravenclaw bent down and wrapped her arms around the redhead.

"Oh _Jess! JESS!"_

Jess was a bit startled by this show of…well…affection? Distress? Both? She looked at her friends over Cho Chang's shoulder, wondering if they knew something she didn't.

Steph looked surprised and Katie looked worried, Ron looked downright irritable, Hermione looked nervous, Sarah looked utterly confused and Donia….Donia was dramatically miming emotional weeping and silently mouthing, "Oh Jeeeesss! Jeeeeeessss…!" before flinging her head back, wrist to forehead, and promptly pretending to faint into Steph's lap.

Steph, who'd looked fairly taken-aback by Cho's reaction to Jess, looked equally taken-aback at finding Donia's head in her lap.

"Err…Hi….Cho?" Jess patted the distraught Ravenclaw on the back soothingly.

"Are you alright?" asked Harry sharply, his face drained of colour with worry.

"Knickers in a twist again, Cho ChaAAAAAAOOOOOWWWWWW!" tears sprung up in Donia's eyes as she glared furiously at Katie. "Dammit, Dubois! I _thought_ we'd _discussed_ kicking under tables!" she yelled.

The Gryffindor muggle stared back at her dispassionately and pointed at the cup in Donia's hand. "Is that _my_ hot chocolate?"

"Shhhhhshshhhhhh!" whispered Sarah and Steph, both cooperating in pushing Donia's head, face first, down onto the table.

"Guys! I'm not a fucking ostrich! I won't just go to sleep if you-mmmmph! Mmmrrmph! Fine…" She surrendered with an exasperated sigh, muffled against the grainy surface of the breakfast table.

Cho pulled away from Jess, cheeks pink with embarrassment. No one besides Katie seemed to notice that Ron too, had a pink face, on the other end of the table, but only because his loathing for Cho was growing exponentially by the minute.

"I'm sorry," Cho looked goofy and apologetic, but from her it was endearing, even beautiful, Jess noted a little enviously.

Harry almost fell off the bench.

Ron made a strangled sound and gestured helplessly towards Harry. Katie gently brought his upraised hands down below the table, putting them in his own lap, patting them sympathetically.

"I'm sorry," said Cho again.

"It's alright," shrugged Jess. "Donia's a bit of an arse…"

"I'M RIGHT HERE!" screeched the Slytherin, trying desperately to lift her head off the table despite Sarah and Steph's joint effort in pushing it down.

"Please don't mind her," said Jess. "Are you alright, Cho? You seem upset…"

"Listen, Jess," said the girl earnestly. "Some people…some people from my house are planning to do something…at breakfast. To suck up to the Slytherins…"

"What?" Harry jumped in. "Why? Why would Ravenclaws ever want to suck up to the Slytherins?"

"Because a lot of us feel that Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs hate us," winced Cho.

"But…but we don't," Hermione chimed in.

"SPEAK FOR YOURSELF! MMMMRRRRPH!"

"Well, at least not generally." Hermione scowled at the back of Donia's head. "But lately…"

"Yes, lately we've been…behaving despicably," finished Cho. "There's no excuse for it and they know it. To tell you the truth, most of them really don't have a problem with muggles at all, they just…they'd rather see you out of the school just so they don't have to look at you everyday and remember how cruel they've been to you and you friends…"

Jess was blown away by this revelation.

Harry, surprisingly enough, was the one to start speaking first, "You mean…you mean the Ravenclaws are helping the muggles get tossed out of Hogwarts?"

"Surely you didn't think the ministry would just trust testimonies from Slytherins, did you?" Cho looked like she wanted the Earth to open up and swallow her.

"But there were no testimonies from Ravenclaws in court!" Jess was aghast. "I was there!"

"They were all given under a promise of confidentiality." replied Cho mournfully.

Silence.

Jess swallowed hard. "Can…can they do that?

"_CHO!"_

Cho Chang jumped and turned to see her best friend, Marietta, standing up at the Ravenclaw table and looking at her angrily. The rest of the Ravenclaws didn't look too pleased either, twisteded in their seats and staring coldly at Cho.

_They don't know whether to treat her like a traitor or a hero…she's only doing what they all want to do,_ thought Jess sympathetically.

"Cho Chang, come back over here…" called Marietta again.

"No! I won't be a part of it! It's not fair and it's not right!" cried Cho, her voice wavering.

A sound of nauseated disgust came from Donia's squashed face.

Jess frowned at Sarah and Steph, who shrugged at her helplessly. "Look, unless you want her head to go right _through_ the table, I don't see what else Steph and I can do…"

"It's alright," said Cho, attempting a smile. "I…I have to go, anyway…"

"No! Wait! Have you had breakfast!" sputtered Harry.

This time, the nauseated sound of disgust came from Ron, which confused Steph and Sarah, for a moment.

"Ow! Ow! OW!" squealed Donia at the added pressure.

"I'm not hungry," said Cho. Jess noticed that the Ravenclaw seemed thinner and paler than she last remembered. Jess had heard about Cho's major guilt issues after Cedric's death; it seemed consistent that she'd be having guilt issues with the treatment of muggles by her house now, too. "I'm just going to go study… in the library…"

They watched her go, her head hanging limply between her shoulders. Marietta got up with a plate loaded with food, glared at the Gryffindors as if it was their fault Cho was having such a miserable time of it, then followed her friend out of the Great Hall.

Sarah and Steph released Donia's head and the Slytherin muggle shot up, rubbing her red nose furiously. "What the fuck, guys! What the fuck!"

"Had to shut you up somehow," remarked Jess with a raised eyebrow.

"Am I not entitled to an opinion, now?" fumed Donia.

"Not when it's unfair," snapped Katie.

"Oh, not _you_ too, Katie," moaned Ron.

"Yeah, tell 'em, Ron!" cried Donia.

Ron went on, "Look, I'm not saying she's evil or anything…"

"No, because evil takes effort! Cunning!" interjected the Slytherin muggle. "And style!"

"…but she's not doing anything against her own good either!" finished Ron, trying to ignore the ranting muggle.

Katie blinked at him. "Ron, she went against her whole house to warn us. She's a _nice_ person."

"Yeah, well….she…I dunno…" Ron deflated and began bad-temperedly picking at his bacon.

"Speaking of warning us," said Steph suddenly. "What do you think they have in store for us?"

"What ever it is, we stick to the plan," said Jess.

Donia cheered up instantly. "Immediate, violent retaliation! I'm so excited…"

"God, I love that word combination," sighed Sarah contentedly. "It's like when I was three and just starting to amble about the house and I discovered that I could fit my fingers into all the electricity outlets up to the third knuckle."

"You did that?" Even Donia, perhaps the one other person in their group to truly approach Sarah's madness, had an incredulous look on her face.

"You didn't?" the Hufflepuff muggle looked worried for all of three seconds. Then her need to make a point overcame her self-doubt. "Well, anyway, my mum kept telling me _not_ to put my fingers in the outlets because I'd get a shock, but I never actually _stopped_ doing it until I actually did get a really bad electric shock, one day. I was pronounced clinically dead for three minutes and everything…"

Silence.

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Suddenly, it _all_ makes sense," muttered Donia recovering from this bizarre information a lot quicker than the others.

"_**SARAH!**"_

"Um…." Jess was panic-stricken. "Twins! Twins! Twins! The twins at two o'clock!"

"Sarah!" Fred and George came stomping up. Some people from the Hufflepuff table began to rise to their feet protectively.

"_Sit_!" screamed Sarah leaping to her feet and commanding her troops.

The Hufflepuff boys grudgingly took their seats again. Fred and George stared in wary disbelief as they approached.

"Aaaaaaaand THAT…" Donia murmured to Steph, nodding her head toward the restless Hufflepuffs, "Wasn't in the _least_ bit weird. Or creepy. Or like the Nazi-"

Steph cut her off with a groan. Sometimes the things the Slytherin muggle said in humour hit a bit too close to the bone.

"What the hell's going on, Sarah?" demanded George.

"If I didn't know better, Sarah, I'd say you had all _that_ lot under _Imperius…"_ snorted Fred in the direction of the Huffs. Both he and his brother seemed to be wearing protective helmets on their heads. It took everyone a second to realise that the helmets were actually stew pots, from the kitchens. "They've been popping out of nowhere and following us about for days now!"

"And _that_ explains the pots…" whispered Katie.

"What's this all about?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, Sarah. What are you playing at?" George adjusted his helmet.

Sarah stared at him frostily down the end of her nose. "Don't…be…insulting, Fred…"

"_I'm_ Fred," exclaimed Fred.

"Whatever!" exploded George. "Where's our money, Sarah?"

"What money?" said Sarah confidently.

Her friends were the only people who heard the faint warble of hesitance in her voice. They all winced in anticipation, having watched enough of Sarah's schemes go badly wrong over the years.

The boys glared at her silently for a split second before they both yelled: "The money you were supposed to make with the blue dye!"

"So far," snarled Fred. "We have sixteen bucket loads of Switchkin's Hydro-Sensitive Smurf-Blue (in 'Gryffindor Greeting' ) sitting in our rooms waiting to be used."

"And it hasn't been _used_, Sarah!" interrupted George. "Why hasn't it been _used_?"

"That was three hundred galleons that could have gone to develop more merchandise for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Sarah!"

"Now, we won't have enough money to get our next shipment!"

"And we can't make money if we have nothing to sell, Sarah!"

"So what are we supposed to do, Sarah!" They both fumed in unison.

"Boys!" snapped Sarah coldly. "Some plans need time to be hatched. Rome wasn't built in a day and even God had six days…"

"Seven…" corrected Donia.

"He rested on the seventh," said Sarah.

"Maybe in the Bible," shrugged Donia.

"SARAH!" screamed the twins, "We _need _the money!"

"Well, you're going to get it!" Sarah screamed back.

"When!" demanded the boys.

Sarah looked at a complete loss. "You're…er…you're going to get it…er…"

"…Now." Donia finished for her.

"Now!" cried Fred, George and Sarah.

"Well, tonight." said Donia.

"Yes, tonight." agreed Sarah strongly. "We're using it tonight, boys, so if you'll excuse me, I have a plan to hatch that involves….Hydro-Sensitive Smurf-Blue in 'Gryffindor Greeting'." She shooed them away with her hand. "Now go. You're both dismissed. I can't believe you doubt me like this…."

Fred and George stood bewildered for about three seconds, watching as the muggles quietly went back to their breakfasts. Then, feeling thoroughly…excused… they walked off to the other side of the table to sit amongst their peers and eat, looking exceedingly confused.

Sarah waited a moment before sighing with relief and turning in her seat to say, "Are we really going tonight?"

"Yup," replied the Slytherin between mouthfuls of rice pudding.

"Thank _GOD_ the no violence rule is OVER! I don't think I could've kept _that_ up much longer…" the Hufflepuff leaned against Steph, who fanned her sympathetically with her red and gold napkin.

"What's Hydro-Sensitive Smurf Blue dye in 'Gryffindor Greeting'? asked Katie.

"What's 'Gryffindor Greeting?" wondered Jess.

"You'll see," shrugged Donia stuffing her mouth with scrambled eggs.

"How the hell's it Hydro-Sensitive?" Sarah demanded.

"It's fun," grinned Donia. "We'll need a couple of your minions, Sarah, to help us carry the stuff to the…" Her eyes flickered briefly towards Jess, Steph and Katie. "…place…"

"Oh, come on!" Katie cried.

"Trust me," replied Donia. "You'll enjoy it more if you don't see it coming…"

"Speaking of not seeing it coming," sighed Hermione. "There are a couple of levitated jugs of water floating towards your heads right at this moment…" She wearily prepared to stand and pull out her wand.

"Sit down, Hermione," hissed Katie and Sarah at precisely the same time.

"What-" Hermione's look of shock was mirrored in Harry and Ron's faces.

"You guys…" began Ginny leaning over towards them, pointing at the floating jugs, which were directly over the muggle's heads, now.

"We got it covered, Gin," replied Donia, eyes narrowed and gleaming murderously.

"If only we could do this some other way," sighed Jess leaning back on the bench to receive her drench. "I just know this is going to be cold…"

The floating jugs tipped over, spilling freezing water onto the muggles awaiting heads in a controlled imperious drizzle.

Laughter exploded from the Ravenclaw table, soon to be accompanied by raucous applause from the Slytherin table. Draco got to his feet, clapping in a leisurely manner, leaning more on one foot.

He spoke when the noise died down a little. "_That_…" he intoned. "…is what we call _Levitation_, muggles…"

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall came to her feet. "How _DARE_ you…"

"Now, now, Minerva," Snape got to _his_ feet. "Malfoy is simply commenting. The erroneous charm obviously came from the Ravenclaw table…"

"Indeed, I am most horrified by this…this….outrageous behaviour from my house!" sputtered Flitwick, cheeks on fire as he stood on his chair, embarrassed. "Minerva, I'm so sorry, I-"

"_Oh My GOODNESS!"_ cried McGonagall suddenly as five huge crashes sounded and crockery went flying everywhere. Ravenclaw and Slytherin students were shrieking and recoiling from their table, and the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors jeered and laughed uproariously at the sight before their eyes.

The muggles had given the action a moment to lull after Draco's scathing commentary; enough of a moment that people became distracted by the teachers bickering at the Head table. Then, in explosive action that took everyone by surprise, Sarah and Steph had leapt to their feet, as Katie and Jess had clambered on to the Gryffindor table. Donia had grabbed the jug hovering above her head, leapt up in one smooth motion and sent the clay vessel careening through the air like a meteor heading for a life-bearing planet. It hit the Slytherin table, centimetres from Draco's crotch, and shattered into a billion tiny fragments, like alligator teeth whizzing through the air.

The other four jugs followed suit, meeting the Ravenclaw table with equal force or actually hitting Ravenclaws in the heads, knocking them off their seats and onto the clay covered ground only to shed blood. Screams of panic erupted from both tables as people scrambled fearfully out of the way, expecting a second assault.

"_THAT_…" smiled Donia calmly, from the top of the amazed Hufflepuffs' table. "Now, _that_…is Levitation, Motherfucker."

The Great Hall exploded open, vomiting the soaked muggles out. Yelling could be heard behind them, subsiding as the doors swung shut again. One could easily tell that one of the voices was McGonagall's and the other was Snape's, arguing over their fate again.

"Do you think we'll all get detention this time?" asked Katie.

"I hope _I_ do…" muttered Steph, seething. Sarah patted her arm soothingly.

"I don't know. They must be building up, for me," smirked Donia. "I must owe Snape at least six by now; I haven't gone to one since I've been here."

"Well, do we care?" asked Jess indecisively.

The girls stood, hair dripping, shirts sticking to their shoulders, looking for a reply in each other's faces. Finally the questioning gazes settled on Sarah and Donia who turned to each other and said, "No?" They turned back to the rest of the group, shrugging. "No."

"Do you ever intend to go?" asked Katie.

"Maybe once. To see what it's like. Could be fun." the Slytherin shrugged.

"Alright then," said Jess. "We have work to do, don't we?"

"Yes, but all our wizard friends are in there. How are we…?" began Katie.

A small, first-year Gryffindor came scuttling by them busily, clearly intent upon getting his breakfast. In a split-second, he was hanging, by the front of his shirt, from Donia's fist, feet cycling in the air in alarm.

"Good _God_, Donia! _What_ are you-!" screamed Katie.

"No, wait! I've seen her do this before! She won't hurt him!" cried Sarah, eyes gleaming eagerly.

Donia turned to glare at her. "It doesn't work if he _knows_ that, Sarah!" hissed the Slytherin through gritted teeth. "Now I really _will_ have to hurt him…"

"Oh!" Sarah looked apologetically at the first year. "Sorry, mate."

The tiny Gryffindor whimpered, eyes tearing up in panic.

"Quiet, _Thingy_," snarled Donia, giving him a brain-joggling shake.

"Oh gently, Donia, please…" Katie pleaded, mortified. She could almost feel her own brain shrink away from her skull fearfully. "He's a Gryffindor! We _like_ Gryffindors, remember?"

"He's young! He'll recover…" said Sarah.

"Sarah!" snapped Steph.

"What?"

"Guys, we're wasting time," murmured Jess, with quiet cynical displeasure.

"Yeah, _my_ time!" yelled Donia not noticing that she was shaking the boy mercilessly, even though, technically, she was annoyed with her friends. "Do I do my work, or not, damn it!"

"Go ahead! Go ahead! Sheesh…"

"Fine!"

"No need to yell…"

"Yeah…"

"God, you're psycho touchy sometimes, Sawwan…"

Donia cleared her throat and everyone else fell silent. Sarah stood behind her and massaged her shoulders like a trainer warming up a prize boxer. The Slytherin muggle lifted the boy off the floor again, bringing him closer to her face, "Right, _Thingy_," she snarled, eyes blazing. "You know the drill. You do what we tell you to. You tell no one. You make yourself available for further service. Capiche?"

'Thingy' nodded nervously.

"Good," Donia smiled. "Now, where would packages from outside the school come in?"

"T-the….owl-owl…"

"Speak up, Thingy. Don't make me shake you till you're sick."

"….Owlery…..The Owlery!" he stuttered.

"Then take us to the Owlery."

Professor Dumbledore emerged from Madame Pomfrey's closet, finishing off the last of his sixth acid pop.

"That was fun, Poppy," he said non-chalantly.

"Oh please, Albus. We're too old for you to imply that we were up to anything sexual in that closet." snapped Madame Pomfrey.

"Of course. Now what did you want to show me?"

"Follow me," she said tiredly.

Dumbledore was taken aback when he noticed that at least five of the beds in the infirmary were occupied.

"I put them all to sleep because they were whining so much," whispered Madame Pomfrey. "But one of them demanded to stay awake till she spoke to you."

"Is it the non-magical girls, Poppy?"

"What?" she seemed surprised by the question. "Oh? Oh no. Not them, poor things. Not _yet_, at any rate, though Ronald Weasely was brought up here by one of them the other day. No, Albus I suspect we might have a more serious problem."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well," said Pomfrey pulling back the curtains surrounding the bed they'd come up to. There, sitting up indignantly in bed, fists balled at her sides, tears spilling out of swollen eyes, lip torn and nose bloody, was Pansy Parkinson. "I think someone's targeting the Slytherins!"

"It stinks, up here." muttered Donia.

"OOOOHHHH! Owls! Owls! It's a veritable conservatory for every endangered owl species there is! This is wonderful!" cried Katie clasping her hands happily as dozens of the original occupants of the owlery zoomed in and out returning or heading out to deliver messages.

"If one of them craps on me I'm having it for dinner." stated the Slytherin bad-naturedly.

Katie glared.

"Oh hush," said Sarah as she knelt by an exceptionally laden owl that was sitting patiently on top of a large box tied to both its legs. "This bird carried the whole thing by itself! That's miraculous! I _love_ magic!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not a fan just yet," said Jess. "Let's see if we got everything. Here, Sarah," Jess handed her friend a letter as she struggled to untie the owl from the box.

Sarah tore the envelope open as Steph knelt to help rip sello-tape off the sealed box. The Hufflepuff muggle took a moment to read the letter, then proceeded to smile and say, "Aaw. Uncle Alfie! You are _so_ the best uncle ever. He says he's willing to supply us with whatever we might need, free of charge, until we've completed our sentences…"

"Sentences?" Steph straightened in alarm. "What've you told him, Sarah?"

"I told him what he needed to know," frowned Sarah. "I couldn't very well tell him we were in a witness protection program at a Wizarding school located in Butt-Fuck-No-Where, Scotland, now, could I?"

"Stop fighting, guys, we got it all. This is great," said Katie.

"Okay, whose is the coffee?" asked Jess holding it up.

"Mine!" Steph grabbed the package and leapt out of the way. For a moment, she reminded Sarah of the seagulls from _Finding Nemo_.

"Who ordered…._grapevine leaves_?" Jess stared at the translucently wrapped tidy piles of pronged leaves.

"ME!" yelled Sarah making a grab for the packages.

"There's a whole lot of those leaves in here Sarah," said Katie riffling through the huge box, up to her shoulder in wrapping.

"Yeah….it's all mine." Sarah hurriedly handed the packs in her arms to Donia and reached forward to gather the rest up before the others could take a better look at the grapevine leaves.

"What are you going to do with all those, cook them?" asked Jess puzzled.

"Hey!" yelled Donia suddenly. "These aren't grapevine leaves! These are- AAAAAAOOWW! _Sarah, you bitch!"_

"Sarah!" Jess stared. "That was rather uncalled for. And it looked like it really hurt."

"Yeah, Sarah!" The Slytherin fumed. "Maybe I should just tell everyone that these packets are full of po-aaaaaaAAAAAAOW! _Steph!_"

"_Sorry!" _Through gritted teeth, Steph managed to convey a demanding if apologetic request. "_Please SHUT UP!"_

With a disgusted sigh, Donia shut her trap.

"Wigs?" Katie pulled them out.

"Those are for our movie. Walkie-talkies?" Jess held them up.

"Oh, I asked for those," Katie received them and immediately started handing them out. "They're for us, alright? They're the latest thing. Tiny and sleek so you can keep them on your persons at all times…"

"What for?" asked Sarah.

"For anything. An emergency." explained Katie. "Here, look. There are five channels, one for each of us and they're colour coded too. I take it we all know our colours? Red for me, yellow for Sarah, green for Donny, blue for Jess and the purply one for Steph. And that button on the bottom opens all channels at once, which means we'd all be able to hear the same transmission at the same time. Isn't it cool?"

"That's awfully clever, Katie," said Steph, taken aback as she stared at her own little handset.

"Yeah, good thinking." said Jess. "Who ordered batteries?"

"Me! That's for all shaving razors, mp3 players, automatic toothbrushes, etc," stated Donia reaching for them.

There was a cacophony of 'Oh-Thank-Gods' as they all reached for their share of batteries.

"Steph! Why do you get extra?" asked Jess staring at the single packs of double 'A's and triple 'A's she'd gotten.

"Dildo." remarked Steph non-chalantly.

"OH GOD!"

"EW!"

"Too Much Information!"

"I did NOT need to know that!"

"I'm just saying, I'd like extra batteries from now on," shrugged Steph, coyly withdrawing from the circle.

"Come one. What else is in there?" asked Donia impatiently.

"The camera," Jess pulled out a smaller cardboard box out of the massive original.

There was a silence as Jess broke through all the seals and pulled it out of its Styrofoam.

( Seeing the Styrofoam launched a whole wave of guilt brought about by bringing non-biodegradable wastes into the Wizarding world within Katie, but she stifled it quickly.) Then, Jess proceeded to hold the sleek, silver thing up to the light, trying to decipher how to switch it on.

"A digital," Steph looked impressed.

"A nice one, too," nodded Sarah.

"It won't matter how nice it is if it won't work," muttered Jess pushing her hand through the camera's side strap. It really was a conveniently small machine; it fit comfortably and lightly in the palm of her hand.

"Surely, it'll work," Steph sounded anything but sure. "I spoke to Dumbledore. He _promised_ he'd see to it that electronics would work here. He _promised_…he…he…"

They all waited with baited breath. If this didn't work, Jess had no clue how else to prove to Scrimgeour that they deserved to stay at Hogwarts. Her fingers took hold of the side screen and pulled it open, like a car door swinging in the wind. A tiny beep was heard and the blackened screen leapt into life, turning Bluescreen blue, for an instant, before showing Katie's anxious face as the lens was seeing it.

The letters, "STBY" flashed green in the corner of the screen.

The girls shrieked. They were in business.

Dumbledore stared at Pansy Parkinson. She glared right back at him.

If Albus Dumbledore had a regret concerning the Slytherins, it was that he had never managed to gain their trust. He often wondered if as many of them would fall in love with the Dark Arts if they didn't feel so unloved by the rest of the Wizarding world.

"Miss Parkinson…" he began, gently.

"What is _this!_" screamed Pansy. "I said SNAPE! SNAPE! I didn't say DUMBLEDORE!"

_Then again, it could just be that they were always the snottiest little bastards at school._

"Dumbledore is Headmaster…" insisted Madame Pomfrey.

"Wait, Poppy," interjected Dumbledore. "Miss Parkinson has a right to speak to whomever she wishes."

Madame Pomfrey blinked.

"However," Dumbledore went on. "Professor Snape is currently teaching, so anyone wishing to speak with him will have to wait until lunchtime, at least. Would you be willing to wait that long? You risk exposing other members of your house to the same experience…"

"Fine," snapped Pansy, though she suddenly looked weary and defeated. "Fine. I'll talk."

"Please, Miss Parkinson," Dumbledore came forward and sat at the end of the bed. "What happened to you and your classmates?"

"We were walking to class," Pansy wouldn't look up from the crease in her bedcovers she was steadfastly staring at. "They…they came out of no where…We never saw them coming…"

"Right!" yelled El Presedenté, inspecting the first line of troupes. "We have come to the crux of our intentions, the moment of truth, the axis of evil, the tower of pancakes, the pearly whites of your rubber ducky, the-"

"Sarah…"

"Yes, Donia! Thank you!" El Presedenté gave herself a moment to remember what she'd intended to say in the first place, then commenced with her speech. "We have a long road of reform ahead of us. Only those with the loyalty and aspirations towards Hufflepuff House that would make the adoration of a well-loved puppy look like the cold indifference of your ex-girlfriend's mother will make it through into the ranks of the Chosen; those elite few with hearts of oak and brains of…brains of…brains…of…"

"Sheep?"

"_SILENCE,_ Slytherin menace!" El Presedenté glared at her friend. "Now, Hufflepuffs, our trials and tribulations begin tonight. Those of you who wish to join the ranks of the elite must understand many of our activities are going to involve rule breaking! Disrespect of people in positions of authority! Disrespect of people in our peer group! Disrespect in general! Solidarity! Strength in unity and equality!"

"Move it along, Sarah; you're not Lenin, and I'm not immortal!" snapped Donia finally losing her patience. "Not yet, at least…"

"_Fine, you do it then!_" howled Sarah, nostrils flaring, fist held before her face heroically. She'd realised that, perhaps, she was a tad too enthusiastic, too close to the project, to handle this with the deftness it required. But before she stepped aside, she said, "Huffs, I put you in the hands of one of my most trusted comrades…you may know her by another name outside our common room, but within our domain, she shall henceforth be known as…._Le Generalé…."_

"…_Le Generalé…._" murmured the Hufflepuffs in unison turning their heads to where Sarah was pointing.

Donia rolled her eyes, feeling rather silly as the collection of big, bright eyes all focused, unblinkingly, on her . The Hufflepuffs looked expectant, even fearful.

She wondered if she disappear in a puff of smoke, now. Or maybe even levitate.

_Wait. Magic school. That stuff's not impressive here. Ah well, they'd have to be satisfied with her shining personality. _

"Presedenté, can she be trusted?" questioned Hanna Abbot.

Before Sarah could open her mouth, Donia leaned forward, hands coyly clasped behind her back, and murmured, "_Never._"

"Wh-what?" Hanna looked a bit alarmed that the Slytherin had heard her doubting.

"_Never_ trust." Donia turned away from them and began pacing up and down in front of the fire place. "Do, though…" she advised. "_Do_…learn. Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

"Send messengers to the twins."

"Sure. With what message?"

" 'Let the betting begin.'"

Draco stood amidst his circle of Slytherins, hair gleaming in the fire that was lit twenty four hours a day, three hundred and sixty five days a year because the dungeons contained neither windows nor warmth.

"It's war," he whispered. He could afford to. The Slytherins barely breathed when he spoke to them collectively. "We're at war. These muggles will stop at nothing to humiliate us. They have absolutely no respect for us though we are most obviously superior. They're infringing on our environment and threatening us. It's true that my father has assured that they will not be here for very much longer, but direct action needs to be taken by us.

I will _not_ stand by and watch Slytherin pride taken to pieces by these …beasts …and their chaotic, barbaric, bohemian behaviour. You can see it, in the way they walk, the way they talk, the way they eat, even. These…people… these _muggles_ are _dirt._ _DIRT._ And I will _not_ be in school with non-deserving dirt. Salazar Slytherin would roll in his grave if he knew that his chosen purebloods were in an environment which exposed them to these dregs of society.

Dumbledore may have lost his mind, but there is only so much anyone can do to stop us, Slytherins. Even Albus Dumbledore. This is up to us.

I hereby declare the muggles…_fair game_."

"This is so uncomfortable; what idiot designed this?" Katie shifted one buttock then the other, frowning down at the engraved bench. "I'm pretty sure that dragon's flame has poked me up the bum hole at least three times now…"

Jess momentarily pulled the camera away from her face. "Okay, you've been hanging around Donia too long. You _can't_ say that on camera, Katie. We need sweet and innocent, remember? It's why I didn't ask the other three to help…"

"They can look innocent…" said Katie.

Jess raised a cynical eyebrow. "What? Miss Stephanie Coffee-Tea-Or-Me Lalonde? Miss Sarah I-See-A-Labotomy-In-My-Near-Future Ogle? Or maybe I should've asked Miss Would-You-Like-To-See-My-Skull-Collection Sawwan?"

Katie grinned. "Point taken. Now, should I start?"

"I dunno," said Jess. "Are the others ready?"

"Oi!" yelled Katie down the corridor. "You lot ready?"

There was a scuffling, agitated sound that did not sound very encouraging , but nevertheless, Harry's voice was soon heard from around the corner, calling, "Um...ready…sort of…ow…"

"Get off my foot, Harry!" Ron sounded exceedingly irritated.

Ginny's uncontrollable giggling bubbled up

"Ginny, SHUT UP!" moaned her brother.

"What's _she_ on?" growled Hermione, twirling her microphone, bad-temperedly, like a cheerleaders baton. "Coz I bet it'll make my morning much more _colourful_…"

"Jess? This wig's itchy…" moaned Seamus Finnighan. Dean Thomas nodded in mute agreement.

"Please, you guys," Jess ran her free hand through her hair frustrated. "Please! Get it together. This won't do…"

"Look, don't boss us about!" snapped Parvati advancing towards the little red-head heatedly. Lavender scuttled after her nervously. "The only reason we agreed to this was because Hermione…"

"…_threatened you_…"

Parvati blanched. Hermione, it seemed had somehow materialised behind her.

"The threat still stands, you know," Hermione inspected her fingernails neutrally.

Parvati and Lavender scowled and scampered away to their positions.

Ginny giggled quietly.

"I can't sit on this bench much longer!" insisted Katie. "Can we _please_ get a move on?"

"Places, people! We'll begin filming in five," sighed Jess.

"Wait! I have a problem!" howled Harry, eyes wide in panic.

Ginny giggled a little less quietly; her eyes were shiny with restrained tears.

"What is it?" asked Jess gently. Out of the corner of her eyes, though, she could see Katie roll her eyes.

"I don't think I can do this, Jess," Harry reached for the white blond wig currently brain-sucking his scalp. "I honestly don't think I can even _pretend _to be Draco Malfoy without feeling forever more unclean…" He tugged on the wig.

"_HARRY! YOU KEEP THAT WIG ON OR I'LL KILL YOU!" _screamed Hermione.

Ginny began to snort quietly. Everyone glared at her momentarily.

"Come on Harry," Jess turned back to him. "It took Hermione an hour and a half to get those wigs on all of you. _And_ you're the only one here who's about the right height. It was either you or Neville, and Neville's not his body type."

"I'm not his body type either!" cried Harry indignantly.

Ron patted him on the shoulder supportively. "I hate to break to you, Harry, but…"

"NO! I'm not Draco Malfoy's body type! I'm not Draco Malfoy's anything! Nothing could ever make me resemble Draco Malfoy in anyway! Especially not this stupid wig!"

"Jeez, Harry, take one for the team, will you?" frowned Dean. Seamus agreed non-verbally.

"I've never seen Harry in this degree of denial…" said Neville, who'd been the quietest member of this cast up until this very moment.

"I can't! I just…can't…" Harry looked close to tears.

Ginny looked close to tears for a whole other reason.

Hermione shoved Parvati and Lavender out of the way and pulled her wand out of her pocket in one swift motion. Bracing herself, she pointed it right at Harry's face and yelled, "IMPERIU-"

"NO!" screamed Ron shoving her arm away. A flash of bright purple light shot out of Hermione's wand and bounced off the wall right between Lavender and Parvati's heads. The girls shrieked and ducked.

Ginny's face was turning magenta.

Jess and Ron were too busy restraining Hermione to glare at her this time. "No, no," Ron pleaded. "Let's not 'Imperius' anyone, today, Hermione…"

" 'Imperius' doesn't even _work_ on me, so there!" shouted Harry angrily, perhaps at Hermione's open attack despite their long standing friendship.

"The date on this bench isn't real, is it? This isn't _really_ a monument from the twelfth century?" Katie twisted and turned, attempting to snap the tongue off the offending dragon-engraving.

"NO!" Ron let go of Hermione and careened off to save the bench from his current girl-friend.

"Harry please," said Jess, "Please? Please? This is our only line of defence…"

"I didn't know Harry was so 'Method'" said Katie quietly, trying to wrest her hands free of her boyfriends' grip. "Stanyslavski would be proud. Or maybe he wouldn't; I mean he did make light of his own theories near the end of his lifetime…"

Ron looked at her, lips quirked, half in loving wonder, half in confusion. "Stanly… who?…Wha-…"

"Might be fun, Harry," interjected Neville. "You get to do all these horrible things and everyone 'll think it's Draco."

"I don't know…I just…"

"Please, Harry." Jess put a hand out and grabbed his clammy one. "Please? You don't want me and the girls tossed out, do you?"

"What? No! Never!"

"Then, please, Harry," said Katie. "Suck it the hell up."

Ginny tried to laugh as quietly as she could.

Jess flinched. Harry looked absolutely miserable, but he retreated good-naturedly to his position. "Alright? Are we finally ready? Where's our hostess?"

"Here!" Hermione pounced forward with her microphone.

"Good. Pansy Parkinson?"

"Here!" yelled Lavender.

"Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Yeah," muttered Ron, hoisting his make-shift belly out from under his armpit so that it was realistically centred where Crabbe's real paunch would be.

"Ready," said Neville putting on the platform shoes his Grandmother had gotten him _before_ his growth spurt three years ago.

"Jess," snapped Parvati. "I don't see why I have to do this! I _can't _be a Slytherin; my skin colour is neither pasty nor puce!"

_Wow. Vanity from a Gryffindor. Parvati's lucky Donia didn't hear that…I can't even pretend to contemplate the degree of dirty sarcasm she'd stoop to, _thought Jess, raising an eyebrow.

"If Parvati's not going to do it I'm not!" cried Lavender.

"Then, why do I have to-" began Harry.

"SHUT UP!" screeched Hermione. "DO IT OR I'LL HEX YOU ALL! ALL! AND IT'LL BE PAINFUL AND DISFIGURING I PROMISE!"

Silence.

Jess prepped the camera.

Ginny giggled.

Snape had no idea, but his second and third classes of the day were saved by Draco Malfoy.

Steph had been stomping her way towards his room when a gang of Slytherins ambushed her. She wound up locked up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, of course, bound by invisible forces, gagged by a 'Silencio' charm.

In a way, this was a good thing, though, because when she finally was found, hours and hours later, leaning in an exhausted slump against the stall wall, Jess was filming.

But we'll come to that part later.

If this were a movie, the camera would now abruptly and randomly cut to a shot of Lars Uhrig who was walking down the corridor to his next class, busily trying to stuff his Care of Magical Creatures book into his satchel _without_ losing an appendage.

"Lars."

It took all of his quidditch honed reflexes not to crash straight into Draco. As it was, Lars found himself almost nose to nose with an apparently seething Malfoy.

"Dra-" His voice cracked. "-Co?"

_Yeeeeeeees, Lars,_ even his inner voice sounded humiliated. _That didn't sound the least bit guilty._

"We _need_ to _talk._" snarled Draco.

_Well, shit._

Lars cleared his throat, Adam's apple bobbing like a bouy in stormy waters.

Draco's eyebrows sank so low his usually ethereal face seemed almost ghoulish. "_I know your secret, Lars…"_

_OH my GOD, he knows I'm GAY! _was Lar's initial mortified internal reaction.

_FINALLY! Took him bloody long enough…_ was his second internal reaction, which he stifled pretty quickly.

All that emerged from his lips, though, were the words, "M-m-m-_my_….secret?" His voice cracked again.

_Good God, man, get a grip! _screamed his dignity. _At this point you pride isn't just wounded, it's quadriplegic! _

"You couldn't tell me? I thought we were friends, Lars. I honestly thought I could trust you!" raged Draco.

"Oh please! It's not like _you _tell me everything!" sneered Lars with a clarity of thought that surprised even himself.

"I don't hide anything from my friends!" shouted Draco. "You all know everything about me!"

"Oh yes, you live with the untouchable confidence that your_ minions _will never turn against you, how flattering…" Lars was on cruise control. This pent up honesty was rising from he knew not where but he was relieved. Relieved that he didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't anymore. If Draco wanted to hate him for that, then he could just fuck off….

Though…Lars was pretty sure it would break his heart if Draco did fuck off…

"You're not my minion! You're my friend!"

"Yet again you flatter me, but I think you'll find that my point is that I can't be you, Draco. I can't air my dirty laundry and tell the world to breath it in. For the longest time I thought you wouldn't accept me. I thought …"

"I don't accept you…." murmured Draco, staring at the floor, fists balled.

"I…what?" Lars once again felt like there were invisible hands wrapped around his throat. _No, this couldn't be happening…Everything he'd feared…_

Draco too looked like he was having a limb cut off. "I don't accept you!" He finally cried. "You're self indulgence goes against everything that Slytherin has always stood for!"

Lars could say nothing. He could only listen as the guillotine descended.

Draco was going to shun him.

Because he of his sexuality.

Then….Draco screamed, "MUGGLE LOVER! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE DATING THAT ABBERATION OF NATURE!"

Silence. Lars had never experienced such a level of mental blankness.

"……………… ………………………………...What?……….."

"_You!_" Draco flapped his hands angrily. "You! You're in love with that….heinous muggle!"

Lars' mouth felt very dry. Infact, he was pretty sure he was having a minor stroke. "What?" he wheezed like an idiot. And this time, his inner voice didn't object to his lack of eloquence.

"I can't believe you tricked the boys into thinking you'd beat her up!" raved Draco pacing back and forth like a maniac. "_Then,_ you have the audacity to go on a little stroll with her, hand in hand, across the moors! How fucking romantic of you! Then you expect me to _not_ know about it!"

Lars said nothing. But finally his inner voice regained it's ability to offer commentary. _Wow,_ Lars thought. _He's been short-changed on brains, hasn't he? _

"It adds insult to injury, Lars it really does! Do you know, I was so livid this morning when McNair told me that I almost tossed you off the Quidditch team?"

"……what?"

"I mean, for you to not _tell_ me! _That! That_ really hurt; forget that you're probably going to contract something nasty from that….muggle! Eeelukh!" Draco shivered all over and gagged.

Lars was still stunned into incoherence. "…Dra…Draco…I'm not datin-"

"Oh, save it!" snapped Malfoy. "Please! How stupid do you think I am!"

_Is that a rhetorical question or can I answer it? _Lars shook his head to silence his thoughts.

"Well, in the end I've decided you can suck face with whoever the hell you want," sighed Draco. "Though I hope this is just a phase you're going though. Experimentation or whatever. At least she's _remotely_ female…"

A small part of Lars died.

Draco didn't notice. Draco wasn't big on noticing things. He resumed, "…_Remotely_, I said. _Very, VERY_ remotely…And this doesn't change how I view muggles in the least, Lars. I'm not going to stop until those girls run away screaming from Hogwarts. Especially your little girlfriend. _Especially_ her!"

"Um….but-"

"Infact," Draco suddenly looked terrifyingly pleased with himself. "Infact, I have that redheaded one locked in that haunted bathroom as we speak! Haha!"

"Jess!" Lars snapped out of his haze as if he'd been slapped.

"Oh, God! You're not on first-name basis with all of them, are you?" Draco looked down his nose at the other boy. "This _better_ be a phase. And _no. _Not _Jess_…" He said the name like it left a dirty taste in his mouth. "What a hideously bland name. A derivative of 'Jesus' named in feverous tribute to a religious icon…"

_This from the boy who, at age four, ran around his mansion in black bed sheets pretending to be a Death Eater…_

"Remind me to renew that bullseye on her forehead; it's getting kind of faded. Well, anyway, no. Not _her_. The other one. The one with longer hair."

"Stephanie…" moaned Lars, not even pretending anymore.

"And _that_ name!" Draco rolled his eyes. "Morbidly French! Hello? Does no one remember Waterloo anymore? Napoleon? William the Conqueror?"

"Oh, Draco…." Lars wearily put up a hand to rub at his eyes and pinch the tension in the bridge of his nose.

"Enough," growled Draco. "I'm only tolerating your new affectations because you mean a lot to me, Lars. You and I have know each other since we were three. Albeit we've drifted apart, but I've always had a deep respect for you and your family. But these muggles _are_ the enemy…and you better believe I'm not going to spare them."

With that, he stalked off, robes fluttering like some risen spectre of death….or Snape.

Lars lost the feeling in his arms and dropped his books.

He then commenced to stand there, like someone had cut his puppet strings, looking after the other boy till the bell rang and he was late for Transfiguration.

"Bets?" Fred and George almost salivated with eagerness.

"Yes," said Sarah. "But only for a select few people who you know will bet high against huge odds."

"Money-throwers," added Donia. "We need a return to commence with the next stage of the plan."

"But you want this on the down-low?" whispered George, though the room was full of avidly listening Hufflepuffs, perched like hungry birds of prey watching a dying animal.

The boys suddenly felt very naked. Which was understandable since they were wearing nothing but jeans.

"Look," said Fred. "Can we at least have out shirts back?"

"No," said Sarah.

"Why?" asked the boys.

"Coz you're hot." said Sarah.

"Focus," snapped the Slytherin. "Do you, or do you _not_ have a range of bettors with money to throw?"

"Sure we do!" replied the boys, once again distracted by the thought of money.

"What's the scoop?" asked George.

"Tell you in a minute. Now, what are you doing tonight?" asked Sarah.

"Helping you, apparently," Fred rolled his eyes.

"Good, that's as it should be." nodded Donia. "We're going to need all the man-power we can get, as well as your know-how to get around the castle unnoticed."

"If you want us to set up bets we have to do it now. Time's running out; it's already an hour to lunchtime." said George.

"Yeah. If we're going to expect any returns we need to move at least by lunchtime."

"Right, well, here's the plan…."

"Observe," whispered Hermione, full of suspense. "The muggle female, hesitant in her approach as she searches around for any source of danger before heading into open sunlight."

The camera panned around the corner just in time to catch the sparkling-eyed Katie tip-toe out of the shadows into a strategically picked sun spot which glinted off her hair, giving her an angelic halo.

"Oh!" she breezily remarked. "What a nice, quiet spot for a nice, quiet read! I hope I _won't_ be interrupted!"

Then, she skipped prettily to the bench and dramatically placed her posterior upon it. "What a pretty bench! I _love_ this bench! It's so comfortable! _Soooooooooooooooooo_ **_comfortable…."_**

Jess pulled her eye away from the camera long enough to mouth _"Stick to the script!" _

Katie glared as she shut her mouth and opened the book. It took her a moment to notice it was upside down.

The camera panned back to Hermione, who stood so close to the camera her breath fogged up the corner of the screen and all Jess could film for a few moments were wild, hazel eyes, bushy hair and microphone.

"What an extraordinary sighting! If we pan in closer to the muggle…" The camera jiggled slightly as Jess manoeuvred around Hermione's face and zoomed in on Katie. "…we can see that the book she's reading is entitled _Hogwarts: A History_. 'What's this?' you may ask. 'An interest in magical culture not often exhibited by wizards and witches themselves?' How odd from a muggle who is being accused of hating said culture! Maybe the people making these accusations are under the _Imperius_ curse, or demented or just plain lyin-"

The camera suddenly panned to the floor as Jess abandoned all attempts at cinematic style, making a cutting motion across her throat and fiercely mouthing "_Stick to the fucking script!"_

Hermione stopped mid-sentence, cleared her throat nervously, then commenced. "But what is this we see emerging from the opposite corridor?"

From off camera, Dean, Neville and Seamus provided the dramatic music, "Duh-duh-daaaaaaaaaaa!" as the camera panned to a strategically shadowed passageway.

Platinum hair gleamed as a herd of Slytherins emerged. Jess made sure the camera went slightly out of focus and jiggled a lot to ensure that there was never a completely clear view of the band of rascals.

"This is none other than _Draco Malfoy_ and his friends!" hissed Hermione from off camera, her voice squeaking with excitement.

They stopped in perfect formation, 'Draco' at the head of his dark-haired tribe like a pop star and his back-up dancers.

Jess was delighted; it looked great. And now for 'Draco's' big line….

…….

…………..

Silence.

Then, "Ron! Ron!"

"Harry! We're filming!" Ron replied as quietly as he could through gritted teeth.

"I can't see Katie! I can't see where to face without my glasses!"

Jess took a deep breath and let it out very, _very_ slowly. Through the camera lens, she could see Katie roll her eyes sulkily. Really, for all the miracles they'd achieved in this world, who would've guessed that witches and wizards would be completely immobilized by a little acting? There was obviously no drama club at Hogwarts.

They'd just have to edit the whispering out.

'Crabbe' gently shouldered 'Draco' into the correct position and 'Draco's' big line finally came. "Bwaaaahahaaaaaaaahaaa!" roared Harry, pointing towards where he assumed Katie was. "Stupid Mudblood!"

The camera panned quickly to Hermione who gasped in horrified shock, then panned back to the maniacal 'Draco'. "Yes! I said Mudblood! Aren't I so stylishly racist?"

"You're brilliant, Draco!" declared 'Nott'.

"We love you, Draco!" mewed 'Pansy Parkinson'.

"Whatever." snorted Parvati, not even pretending to try to be Bulstrode.

Ginny giggled helplessly behind her own hands, clasped firmly before her mouth.

Jess took another deep breath. They'd have to edit _that _out, too.

"Oh noooooooo!" wailed Katie, flinging a hand to her forehead. "Whatever shall become of me?"

"Oh no!" cried Hermione. "Whatever shall become of her!"

"Attaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!" bellowed Harry, like a Viking chief. The rabble roared forward, the girls screaming….well, girlishly, and stampeding towards Katie, who started off pretending to look scared, then wound up shrieking with genuine terror when she realised that the gaggle of gallopers had gotten a bit too carried away with their acting and were actually making an uncontrollable mad dash her way.

This of course only encouraged Ginny to begin roaring with laughter, especially when everyone else lost their balance, failed to break in time, careened into the bench and went right over it, collectively landing on the other side.

Jess, trying desperately to salvage the film, quickly panned to a pallid Hermione, who managed to looked away from the scene with difficulty. "Um….note, dear viewer, how they…um…attempt to…._squash_ the muggle….with their…um…selves…"

"AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahhahahaahhahahahaaaaa!" wept Ginny.

Harry was frantically digging his way out of the tangle of limbs, golden wig askew, but still passable as real, if dishevelled, hair, fist in the air, yelling, "Pulverise her! Pulverise the muggle! She touched me! She's gross! Ew! Ew! Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!"

Apparently, 'Crabbe' didn't think the muggle was gross, though, because him and her were busy excavating for gold down each other's throats with their tongues.

_Oh good God,_ thought Jess quickly panning away as Ron's wig was ripped off him by Katie's grabbing hands. _At this rate, I'll have to edit it to keep it PG 13! _

Hermione looked away from the shocking scene only to find Jess pointing the camera at her. Jess hadn't really intended to put the poor girl on the spot, but really, what with the mewling mess of people on the floor, a hysterical Ginny standing off to the right, a downright frustrated and embarrassed Harry still trying to salvage the filming and the public displays of affection happening in the background, there really wasn't anyone else to film.

Hermione, always one to make the best of a bad situation, looked lost for an instant, before pointing at Katie (currently on top of Ron) and convincingly crying, "Look! Rape! Sexual extortion! Forceful snogging! I mean _FORCED! FORCED!"_

Jess stopped filming.

"It's those damned muggles!" Tears were pouring down Pansy's face. "They beat the crap out of a bunch of us! We were just walking to class!" Her sobbing was heart breaking. "Look what they did!" she held up a badly bruised elbow. "Look! Look!" She show Dumbledore her puffy mouth and scratched cheek.

Madame Pomfrey looked up at Albus Dumbledore. He seemed entirely displeased with this development.

"You always stick up for them!" moaned Pansy bitterly. "Because Potter would want you too! But I'm not a Death Eater and I've never done more than say a few nasty things to Potter! I don't deserve this!"

"I assure you Miss Parkinson that I have offered no special treatment to these girls that I would not offer anyone else in a time of danger," said Dumbledore gently.

"Oh really?" she sniffled. "I bet you'll keep this from the court case! I bet you'll cover for them!"

Dumbledore looked most unhappy. "Miss Parkinson…these girls need to be here…"

"_I _need to be here!" shrieked the girl, almost leaping out of bed. Madame Pomfrey had to restrain her. "This is _my_ home! _My_ school! Do you think that this place is a refuge for only your precious Potter and his flavour-of-the-week friends? I said _I_ wasn't a Death Eater but we all know pretty well that my parents _are_. If this keeps up, _I'm_ going to have to leave Hogwarts!"

"Miss Lalonde was in my office, today," remarked Albus. "She too appeared the worse for wear. Are you sure those girls were not giving as good as they were getting, Miss Parkinson?"

"Oh fuck off!" snapped Pansy rudely. "She's not _here_, is she?" she gestured around her at the beds full of wounded Slytherins.

Dumbledore said nothing.

Pansy stopped crying and lay back down into her pillows. "Why am I even trying?" she croaked. "I bet this won't make it's way into the trail at all. I just wanted a fair trail. I wouldn't care so much if the judge said they could stay so long as people got to know what harm they'd be doing to Hogwarts. Just a fair trail….that's all I wanted…"

She sounded miserable.

"Miss Parkinson," Dumbledore said. "You'll get your fair trail."

Madame Pomfrey followed him as he stepped back into the closet. She shut the door behind her, so she didn't hear when the third year Slytherin boy in the bed next to Pansy turned over and said, "Well, well, Parkinson. You've got some talent."

"I know," she sniggered. "Draco'll be so pleased. Really his plan was ingenious, though, guilting Dumbledore into testifying against the muggles. Only Draco could think of something like _that_…"

Lunchtime.

A pall of expectant fear hung over everyone. It had taken express orders from the absent Dumbledore to allow the muggles to come in and eat with the rest of the students. As it was, the professors were patrolling up and down, between the tables, like guards watching murderous inmates, looking out for the mere _smell_ of trouble from anyone.

But though no one could quite say it, everyone understood that the real war was now brewing _outside_ the Great Hall. Something big was coming, from both sides, the Muggles and the Purebloods. And it was anyone's guess which wave would break first.

"Did we get anything good?" asked Katie as she, Jess and the rest of the film cast walked into the Great Hall.

"Loads. But we're going to need to edit like mad," said Jess, watching the playback of a particular shot on the camera. "It's going to be a lot of work before we can take this to court and get away with it, but there's potential, at least."

"I'll take potential over nothing anyday," replied Katie, shrugging.

Donia came running up, grin as wide as a Cheshire cat's. "Hey, you two. How was the shoot?"

"Attrocious."

"Wonderful."

Jess and Katie stared at each other.

"Well, it was wonderful for you, you snogged Ron the entire time," said Jess. "Frankly, I was trying not to go blind…"

"There was snogging and I missed it?" Donia pouted.

"Who's snogging what now?" Sarah made a sudden appearance, followed by an influx of Hufflepuffs.

"I snogged Ron." Katie patiently explained, trying to end this train of conversation and change the subject.

Sarah looked confused. "So what? They swap fluids all the time…"

"_Sarah!_" shrieked Katie.

"They swapped fluids on film." explained Donia.

"_Donia!"_

Sarah raised an impressed eyebrow and nodded approvingly. "Hm. Kinky."

"Kinky, yes," agreed Jess. "But I doubt it'll do anything for our cause besides, maybe, turn Scrimgeour on…"

Katie turned on her. "_You_ weren't exactly yelling 'Cut!' either, Miss Director!"

"I told you," said Jess with a quirked lip. "I was trying not to go blind."

Sarah and Donia's sniggering was interrupted by an exceedingly tidy Slytherin boy with stylishly trimmed incoming facial hair and a scarf fashionably looped around his neck.

"Donia! Donia!" cried Jon excitedly. "Look what I have! Fabric swatches!"

"Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrilliant!" Donia clapped her hands imperiously, looped her arm in Jon's and led him to the very end of the Gryffindor table.

Her three friends and more than a few Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins wondered if Hell had frozen over.

"Guys?" said Sarah. "Anyone else worried by the fact that our little goblin's making friends with other ghouls?"

"Worried," snorted Jess. "I'm downright scared. You should've seen the other one, too…"

"What other one?" asked Katie turning back to look at Jess.

"The tall blond one that's currently walking towards them."

The three girls silently observed the tall blond Slytherin (who just happened to be Lars, of course) distractedly walk over to Donia and the other boy, who were so preoccupied with comparing fabric that they didn't even notice him standing there at first.

"My _GOD_, he's hot," said Sarah suddenly.

"Uhum," agreed Jess. "In that Slytherin kind of way."

"I like Ron." said Katie.

"BETS!"

The three muggles jumped violently.

Behind them, Fred and George had just leapt on to the Gryffindor table with their roster and money box.

"BETS!" yelled George again. "Come on! You know you want to be a part of the biggest adventure of the year yet!"

"Ladies and gents, you know that trouble's brewing, specifically trouble designed by yours truly and Miss Ogle over here," Fred went down on one knee and took Sarah's hand and kissed it.

"So hand us a penny-"

"Each!"

"- and you might make a kill!"

"We know _we_ will!"

Sarah laughed excitedly and clambered on to the table with them. "You heard what the boys said! Come on people! Don't miss the excitement! Bet on a colour! You have four! Red, green, yellow or blue!"

"How are we going to know who picked the right colour?" asked Seamus.

"Trust me," grinned Sarah, as George conjured her a top hat out of thin air and Fred conjured her a cane. "Trust me Mr. Finnegan. You _will_ know by tomorrow morning! Everyone'll know!"

"How's that?" Seamus frowned suspiciously.

"It'll be obvious." snapped the twins.

"Buck up, Finnegan," Lee Jordon gave the younger boy a gentle punch in the arm. "Are you bettin' or what?"

A hysterical scream suddenly interrupted the proceedings. Everyone fell quiet and worriedly turned to the source of the sound only to find that it had been Donia…..and she was actually laughing.

Infact, she was close to comatose with laughter. In contrast, Jon, the shorter Slytherin boy sitting on the table next to her, seemed almost comatose with horror. His deep blue eyes were wide with shock and his mouth was the perfect mortified 'O' shape. The tall Slytherin stood there, looking straight at the floor, face red with pure embarrassment, eyes angry behind his glasses.

Donia realised she was being watched and gasped, "Oh…so…so….sorry! I- I'm alright…"

People turned back to the betting or to their lunch.

"What do you think that was about?" wondered Katie.

"Who knows? Whatever it was, it amused her." remarked Jess, still sifting through her handiwork on the camera.

"And scarred the boys."

"Typical, really."

Donia was trying desperately to breath, but it wasn't working.

"It's not funny!" moaned Lars.

Jon hadn't closed his mouth yet.

"On the contrary, Lars," sighed the girl. "I think it's hilarious."

The boys let her laugh a little more. Then they all fell silent, looking off into space as they contemplated the bizarre news Lars had just delivered.

"Boy's got shit for brains," murmured Donia.

"Eh?" started Lars.

"Your almighty leader," clarified Donia. "Draco. He's one crayon short of a box o' Non-Toxics."

"You know, a week ago," Lars took his glasses off his nose and gave them a much deserved cleaning with his tie. "I would've punched you in the face for saying that."

"And now?"

He sighed. "Draco's got shit for brains."

"Ata boy!" exploded Donia merrily. "You're coming along nicely! Hey, does this mean we get to make out and participate in other acts of Public Displays of Affection?"

Jon made a small gurgling sound.

"Close your mouth Jon, you're not a guppy." she remarked.

Lars smiled reluctantly. "I guess we're going have to, now…seeing as we're dating and all…"

"But…but…you can't! You're-" began Jon.

"I'm what?" Lars' eyes blazed.

Jon swallowed. "…..German?" _Gay! And MINE! MINE! _

Donia could almost hear Jon's inner thoughts screaming at Lars. It was all she could do not to start laughing again.

Lars simply looked bewildered with poor Jon for a minute. He generally didn't mind Jon. Infact he was predisposed to like the boy because, for a Slytherin, Jon was quite the underdog. But other than the general flag of welcomed oddity Jon raised in Lars' mind, the older boy really didn't know what to think of the younger one.

"I going to go eat my lunch, now. See you later." Lars turned and bumped into the corner of the Hufflepuff table. "Ow!"

"Hey!" yelled a Hufflepuff with soup all over his sleeve. "Watch it!"

"Fuck off." snarled Lars, reminding Donia that no matter how sweet he was to her, old Slytherin habits die hard.

Jon made another wounded whining sound.

She patted him consolingly on the back. "Cheer up, Jon. At least he's making out with me, not Draco."

"How's that supposed to be better?" howled Jon.

"I'm about as sexually appealing to Lars as a two-by-four."

"You'd be surprised…" mumbled Jon morosely.

Donia made a face. "Okay, ew. But other than the typical Slytherin sexual perversities, I'm as appealing to Lars as his little sister would be if he had one…."

"You'd be surprised…" muttered Jon, very matter of fact.

"Stop grossing me out, Jon!" She yelled. "You thank your lucky stars I'll be keeping his eyes off his precious Draco!"

Jon grumbled incoherently, arms crossed. Then he paled and panic and whispered, "He's coming back! He's coming back!"

And indeed, Lars was doubling back their way, much to the chagrin of the soup-soaked Hufflepuff.

If it were possible, he seemed even more distressed than before. "I forgot," he breathed, red in the face again. "I shouldn't have and I'm sorry, but I just totally forgot."

"Spit it out, Lars, forgot what?" Donia couldn't explain the sudden tightening band of fear she could feel around her heart.

"Draco's locked Stephanie in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

An explosion of noise frightened Steph into wakefulness. With conciousness came the blinding, piercing pain that comes long after limbs have gone numb.

Involuntary tears slid down her face, only making the low burning rage within her blaze again at this humiliation. Her head swam and her back and knees screamed in protest at their maltreatment. The Slytherins had made sure to truss her up in the most uncomfortable position they could think of, her wrists pulled behind her back and tied to her ankles, leaving her kneeling on top of a covered toilet.

She had long since slumped against the side of the stall ( bacteria or no bacteria) and a few blackouts had caused her to prop her head up using the wall, but she no longer had any control over her muscles.

"This one! This stall's locked!" _Hermione! That was Hermione! _

Steph tried to make a noise but the spell Draco had used to gag her held firm. It was a good thing too, because a moment later she let out a startled scream when the stalldoor suddenly buckled and bounced, shivering in its socket as if a rhinoceros had charged it.

"AW!"

"_MotherFUCKER!_"

Steph almost wept with glee. Sarah and Donia! And they'd charged the door! How wonderfully typical…if ineffective….

"You'll never open it like that….." said Moaning Myrtle floating over the stall. The ghost had lost interest with Steph early on in her abduction and floated off elsewhere to amuse herself. "They've warded it from the inside."

"Warded it!" Katie sounded panicked.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do about this then, eh?" shouted Donia.

"She's not making any sound," Jess worried.

"Stand aside." demanded Harry. "Ron, give me a leg up."

Steph heard heavy breathing and struggling. Her stall door rattled a few more times and she heard Ron's strained voice call, "Oh! Arg! A little help!"

Steph heard a scream and frightened cries. "Shit! Don't drop me!"

"Well you aren't exactly the malnutritioned ballerina you used to be when we first met, are you, Harry?" wheezed Ron.

"I need to see that lock in order to unlock it with my wand, Ron!"

Katie chimed in. "Why don't you both just lift Hermione?"

"_We're wizards, dammit! Just levitate him already!_" howled Hermione suddenly.

Silence.

"_Levitatus,_" muttered Ron.

A moment later, Steph saw the black porcupine of Harry's dishevelled head emerge above the horizon of the stall door.

"That's it! A little to the left! I see her! Stop! _Stop_! I can see the lock! _Alohamora!_"

The padlock, an archaic looking thing in the shape of a gorgon's snaky head with gaping mouth as the keyhole, popped off the stall and fell to the floor with a heavy clang. Steph stared at it in disbelief and relief.

This time, the door _did_ open when Sarah and Donia shouldered it. Steph, who'd systematically become imballanced by her excitement at being rescued, finally fell right off her perch, into Ron's arms.

The movement was agony and wreaked havoc with her already blood-deprived head. Lights buzzed and twinkled before her eyes, fizzing and floating across her eyes like rogue fireflies that no one else seemed to notice.

"_Liberaté!_" cried Hermione.

Steph felt a faint heat at her bound wrists and ankles, then the pressure of her bindings and gag fell away.

"She's still not moving." Sarah sounded worried.

"I….can't…." breathed Steph. It was strange. She'd suddenly lost all interest in actually trying. A serenity had settled on her, the kind of peace that made a drowning person breath in water.

"Why?" Jess' voice cracked.

"She has no feeling in her muscles." Donia suddenly came into Steph's view. Acid green eyes glowed in the darkness of the bathroom; Donia's controlled anger only served to pacify Steph. It was a funny feeling being friends with a dragon, sleeping under its wing; it was more comfortable than most people would assume.

"We could massage feeling back into them?" suggested Katie.

"It'll hurt like a bitch and we might do more damage," replied the Slytherin.

"_How_ do you _know_ this?" wondered Sarah.

"I remember from that time I shoved Billy Cresent into the locker in Fifth. He couldn't move for days…"

"Right," said Harry, taking control. "We've been pretty useless thus far. I say Ron, Hermione and I levitate Steph to Madame Pomfrey's and you guys go finish dinner…"

"What!" roared Sarah. "No way!"

"Impossible," said Jess. "We're coming with you."

"At least till we know that Steph's better. We can have dinner then." said Katie.

"But what about your plans for tonight?" asked Hermione. "What about Draco? And the Slytherins?

"They can wait," replied the Slytherin muggle. "Everything can wait. And Draco…he has another thing coming…"

As the three wizards walked out of the bathroom, wands raised, Steph floating serenely before them in mid air, Jess and Katie hung back behind the rest.

"Did you get anything?" Katie whispered, peering over Jess's shoulder.

"I got it all," replied Jess, pulling open the camera's side screen and replaying the part where Harry had unlocked the stall door and Steph had fallen out. "I'm telling you Katie, a bit of nifty editing here and there, an interview or two and we'll have that courtroom in our hands."

"Brilliant," said Katie. Then, she winced. "I feel bad using Steph's suffering as propaganda of any sort. Even if it is to save our lives."

"Well, don't. You should feel good about it; we're not faking _all_ the things we're claiming the Slytherins do to us. This is the truth. We're not asking the Slytherins to work themselves into a corner, we're just filming it."

"I suppose."

Madame Pomfrey didn't know whether to be overjoyed or saddened by the fact that she now had a muggle in one of her beds needing far more care than Miss Parkinson had claimed to require.

She made sure the girl was comfortable and gave her a draught to put her to sleep, then she made sure the possé, which had refused to leave even for a second, was at least calm and quiet, before opening the wardrobe in her office and walking out, into Dumbledore's again.

Madame Pomfrey could not _wait _to see Dumbledore's face when he realised how naïve he'd been to trust Pansy Parkinson, of all people. Madame Pomfrey had always known that little girl was the kind to cry wolf; a regular little drama queen. Draco Malfoy always seemed to like that sort of girl.

Imagine her shock and horror when she found Dumbledore's office empty.

"Where did he go?" she murmured to herself.

"To the Ministry," replied an old witch, sipping from a teacup which quivered and shook due to the cerebral palsy obviously inflicted on the ancient woman holding it. "To enter the attacks on the Slytherins as evidence."

Steph came-to hearing the voices of her friends guide her to conciousness. Her body mildly ached, but other than that she felt comfortable.

She heard giggling, then, "Hush! Look! She's coming around."

The silence prompted her to open her eyes. Four pairs of peepers peered down at her from heads, that, for a moment appeared to have joined at the crown. She laughed dizzily realising that her friends had put their heads together…literally.

"Awwwwww," Katie put out a hand and stroked Steph's hair. "Hi, Fefu…"

Steph smiled widely and took a deep breath. "Wow," she slurred. "None of you've called me that since Infant school…"

"Well, we think it might be making a comeback," said Sarah, leaning over and kissing Steph on the forehead. "Kind of like you."

Steph raised her head slightly to look for the other two and found Jess sitting a little further down on the bed, still editing stuff on the camera, while Donia perched on the end of the bed, like the angel of death.

Donia crouched down and stroked Steph's legs. "We were playing a word game. We pick a letter and try to think of all kinds of words that begin with that letter. We just moved on from 'P'."

"Yes, we're on 'C', now." said Jess.

"But we're changing it. I don't like the letter 'C'." replied Donia.

"Why?" asked Steph groggily. "I like 'C'. 'C' is a very nice letter."

" 'C' is a horrid letter. All manner of horrid things begin with a 'C'."

"No they don't," insisted Steph. " 'C' is for cookie-"

"That's good enough for me?" interjected Sarah, but she was ignored.

" 'C'," continued Steph. "Is for cookie, and chocolate and caramel and cream…."

"It's also for carbohydrate, cholesterol, closed arteries, clots and cardiac arrest." stated the Slytherin mildly.

"_Must_ you be so depressing?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I merely state the obvious," Donia twirled a hand and took a bow, making Steph, Jess and Katie laugh out loud. "Besides, it is the way of the Slytherin. Life must be tempered. All happiness must be bitter."

"You mean 'Bittersweet'?"

"No."

"Anyway," Jess interrupted. "We need to let you rest, Steph. We promised Madame Pomfrey we would as soon as we made sure you were alright."

"No!" pleaded Steph sleepily. "Stay, you guys. It's early…"

"Actually, it's not, Fefu. It's close to nine o'clock and I think we're all exhausted and hungry," Katie took Steph's hand and patted it consolingly.

"Nine! Oh no! The day's over! The day's over and you haven't completed any of your plans!"

"It's alright," Donia reassured her. "Tomorrow's another day. And revenge is a dish best served cold."

Steph chuckled. "Thank you," she murmured rolling over in bed and finally letting go of Katie and Sarah's hands. "Thank you…"

The others said nothing, but stood buy solemnly and silently till they were sure their friend was fast asleep.

Then, slowly they began to file out of the infirmary.

"Donia, Sarah, we need to talk to you two."

The Slytherin and Hufflepuff muggle looked at each other to see if they knew anything about what this was about, but only discovered equal amounts of oblivion in the other's questioning gaze.

Jess took a deep breath. "Sarah, can you postpone tonight's activities till tomorrow?"

"_WHAT!_" roared Sarah. "NO WAY!"

"Sarah, please. We need Donia to be well rested-" began Katie.

"Why?" asked Donia.

"We want you to come to court with us tomorrow morning." said Jess putting a hand out and grabbing the Slytherin's hand pleadingly. "Please?"

"Why?" asked Donia again, this time more surprised than suspicious.

"Yeah! Why!" demanded Sarah in a tone that implied that this better be good.

"We need a lawyer." Jess stated plainly.

"Excuse me?" Donia blinked.

"You're good at this sort of thing," whined Jess, opening her baby blues wide. "Pleeeeeeeeeeease! Puh-leeeeeeeeease! Please please please!"

"Okay, so you need a lawyer. What do _I_ have to do with all of this? You're doing a great job, Jess. Harry said so."

"He was being nice," admitted Jess, grimacing. "I really sucked. We need _you_; you can talk your way out of anything. We watched you talk circles around our headmasters and headmistresses for _years_! It's almost a fluke when you actually wind up going to detention, at school."

"This is _ridiculous!_" fumed Sarah. "What about the plans we've been hatching out with the twins? I can't put everything we've planned on hold for this sudden cock-a-mamey plan of yours, Frey! We've put out bets and everything! There's more money involved in this than there was at the beginning and now you're SWOOPING RIGHT IN AND SABOTAGING EVERYTHING! I FUCKING HATE THIS!"

"I'm sorry Sarah, but would you rather lose face in front of the twins or actually LOSE YOUR FACE, LITERALLY, WHEN VOLDEMORTE FRIES IT OFF YOUR THICK SKULL!"

"Guys! Guys!" Katie leapt between the both of them. "Please! Keep it down! We're still really close to the infirmary. Let's discuss this like adults!"

"I'm NOT a bloody adult and I DON'T want to discuss this," hissed Sarah. "As far as I'm concerned, this is fucking unfair but Jess is going to get her stupid way as usual-"

"May _I_ say something?" began Donia.

"NO." snapped her three friends.

"Okay."

"Look," said Katie. "What can we do to help you cancel tonight's plans without looking like a complete idiot?"

"You can tell Jess to fuck right off," snarled Sarah.

"_YOU_ fuck right off!" screamed Jess.

"Guys," interjected Donia.

"WHAT!" they turned towards her, faces red, eyes tearful and blazing.

Taking a deep, cool breath, the Slytherin said, "Here's an idea; why can't I do both?"

Silence.

"Both?" muttered Sarah.

"Yes, both; defined in the Oxford Dictionary as a word used when refering to two of anything in the same action. Both."

"But…but you can't. You're tired already, you'll be absolutely floored by court time tomorrow." said Jess.

Donia shrugged. "I'll get _some_ sleep. The plan will only take about an hour or so to complete. Besides, lack of sleep makes me bitchy and sarcastic which will ultimately be a good thing if you seriously want _me_ to defend us in court."

Silence again.

Donia smiled neutrally, turned on her heel and began to stride away in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" asked Katie.

"To pee. Haven't done that in _ages._ Feel like my freakin' bladder's on fire…"

Her friends watched her disappear down the corridor.

"Right," said Jess, as if waking up from a trance. "Sarah, I need an interview to finish off this video. Would you answer a few questions on film?"

"Yeeeeeah, sure, why not?"

Katie rolled her eyes.

The morose giant clock in the tower struck twelve and reverberated all the way down into the dungeon where Draco had just finished his last assignment for the night. As he rolled up the parchment and tied it tidily with the black satin ribbon from the roll he'd specifically bought to use on is homework, he could feel his shoulders unknott and relax from a tension he had not known he'd had.

He stretched, and brought his hands up to massage his own shoulders. He'd had a _good_ day today but his back was _still_ killing him. While stretching, the proximity of his face to his armpit alerted him to the fact that perhaps his BO was becoming less than stellar. He hadn't showered after Quidditch practise, yesterday, because he'd been busy coaching Pansy on what to say to Dumbledore.

He grinned thinking of his well-trained vixen delivering the report of her most award worthy performance to date. "Draco: one, muggles: _zerooooooooo!_" he gloated, swinging back on his chair, feet braced against his writing desk, head pillowed in his arms. Then, he got up and went to fetch his bathrobe and hair conditioner. It was time for a bath. A long, luxurious, languid, luscious…no, not luscious….Draco hated the word 'luscious'. It sounded a lot like 'Lucius' which made it gross when used in carnal connotations. So he was off to take a bath that was long, luxurious and languid but not luscious….(shiver).

Yes, he could truly count on Pansy to come through in a glitch. It helped, too, that she was quite pleasing to the eye. Not beautiful like Blaise, of course, but her sharp prettiness did come in handy when Draco set her on people.

Blaise.

Draco frowned as he put his towel and pyjamas over his arm and grabbed his toothbrush off his nightstand. Once upon a time, Blaise could've run circles around Pansy. Then, in third year, things changed. Blaise had become…toned down, reclusive, sad, ever since.

Draco Malfoy, Scion of Conquerers, Nemisis of Meek-Scar-Faced-Bespectacled-Orphans-Everywhere, Terrorist Extraordinaire, gave a woebegone sigh and wanted his mummy.

_Oh well,_ Draco shrugged and walked out of his suite._ Blaise was a big girl; she'd take care of herself._ He pulled his door ajar, never actually bothering to shut it completely; a leader within his people didn't need to do things that mundane.

And right now, the snores of his people were reverberating around him. Getting to the end of the corridor, he could hear one of the first years whimper softly. It was rough, but some of the First Years didn't adjust so well to life in the dungeons…especially if the Bloody Baron was standing over them in their sleep.

Draco shivered again and hoped that the Baron hadn't gone back to that nasty habit. The corridor ended and the warm orange glow of the fire on green…everything…reached his light-starved eyes. Like him, some of his beloved upper-year peers were still up wrestling with Snape's impossibly difficult assignment.

Pansy, obviously done _her_ assingment, sat curled by the fire, reading one of Lars' books. She looked up and smiled at him as he passed. He put a hand out and stroked her cheek.

"Did you ask him if you could borrow that?" Draco grinned at his kitten.

"No need. When he finds it gone, he'll know I took it," she replied. "Besides, he's dating a muggle. Nothing I do could even compare to _that_…"

"Please, don't remind me," growled Draco in absolute disgust. "Now I _really _need a bath…"

"Taa, darling. Enjoy!" she sang. "Oh, and Draco! Do try to use up all the foamy bubbles. It'll piss Granger off royally."

He laughed wickedly at her cheek as the painting swung shut behind him.

Pansy sat there chuckling merrily to herself and intending to get back to her book, when she heard a surprised gasp from one of the Slytherins sitting behind her, studying in the common room, and felt a shadow fall across the pages.

She looked up, startled, and went pale at the expression on Lars' face, as he looked down on her, his arms crossed over his chest.

Giving her a moment to register his presence, Lars leaned forward, grabbed the book from between her friends, snapping it shut on one of her fingernails, consequentially ripping it off.

"AAAAOW! Lars!" she shrieked, clutching her hand to herself. "My _nails, _you jerk!"

"Oh, caught a claw, did I?" he murmured. "Oh well, it won't hinder you, much, Parkinson. You only need your lips to kiss Draco's arse."

Professor Flitwick was bored out of his mind. The only reason he was patrolling _this_ portion of the corridor was because he'd drawn the short straw in the Staff Room and Draco Malfoy tended to steal into the Prefect's Bathroom at obscene hours of the night in order to have his way with the foamy bubbles.

This, of course, had only served to inflame the already rocky relationship between Malfoy and the rest of the Prefects, particularly Miss Granger, and the meeting called to address the issue had _not_ gone well. Miss Granger had called Mr Malfoy a selfish, egotistical prick and Mr. Malfoy had made a remark pertaining to her not needing foamy bubbles, but instead to shift her concentration to a strong, fortifying protein conditioner.

The comment, of course, had not gone down positively, and the result was the Professors had decided to nip the problem in the butt and prevent after hours bathing entirely.

So, twirling his wand like a baton, Flitwick sleepily patrolled the corridor outside the Prefects' Bathroom. He, of course, failed to spot Draco Malfoy sneaking in for his regular midnight bath.

Nor did he spot the force of elite Ninja warriors who had managed to sneak into the bathroom _before_ Mr. Malfoy.

Okay, so maybe they _weren't_ exactly an _elite_ Ninja force.

Okay, so maybe they were mediocre at best and one of them stubbed her toe badly upon their entry, barely managing to withhold a squeal and colourful cursing thanks to the multiple hands clamped on her mouth and dragging her into the bathroom.

Sarah shut the bathroom door softly behind them and ripped he ski-mask off her face. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

"-motherfuckingsonofashiteatingsyphillusriddenderangedwhore!" replied Donia grabbing her foot and jumping up and down in one spot.

"Yup, she's fine." declared Sarah, making the announcement to the rest of the worried party.

"- fucking lost a toe…..on a fucking mission….I feel like an Navy Seal…" The Slytherin hobbled forward comically as the remainder of the mediocre Ninja Force lowered the buckets of Switchin's Smurf Blue dye very gently and ripped off their own ski-masks.

"That was very good, men," Sarah beamed proudly.

"Yeah. Asides from me losing my littlest piggy, that was flawless." Donia nodded consent.

"Well, let's not bugger it up now," said George impatiently.

"Yeah, let's dump this shit and get going," said Fred.

"Good idea," said Sarah. "Donia, you still have Harry's magical map-thing?"

"Yeah, right here."

"You be careful with that," Fred remarked pointedly.

"Took us a lot of weaselling to get it off him without Granger picking up a scent," finished George.

"Alright, chill, you two. It's not like I was gonna use it to sponge bathe myself," snarled the Slytherin, opening the Marauders' Map. There was a moment's silence as she checked on their target's progress, then she quickly but carefully folded it up again and stuffed it down her turtleneck collar. "He's about five minutes away, trying to avoid McGonagal patrolling some obscure but uncomfortably close hallway."

"We better move our buttocks, then," said Sarah. "Right, boys. Lift!"

The Weasley twins and the three upper year Hufflepuffs expressly chosen, for their level-headedness, to partake in this escapade, bent their knees to lift a heavy bucket of dye in each hand.

"This way to the bubble pumps," said Donia leading the way.

"Are you sure Lars gave you the right information?" asked Sarah.

"I totally am, Sarah. I trust Lars. If he said Draco would use the foamy bubbles, then it's the foamy bubbles he'll use, no two ways about it." The Slytherin found the door to the side room which just happened to hold all the mechanics required to _run_ the Prefects' bathroom and opened it with ease.

"He didn't happen to tell you _which_ pump holds said Foamy bubbles, did he?" asked Fred suddenly.

And for good reason.

There was six large pumps, each for a kind of bath related recreational substance, in this room and none of them happened to have indications as to which one held what.

"Shit," hiss Sarah.

"A hole in my plot." murmured Donia listlessly. "There _had_ to be a hole in my plot….I'm losing my touch…."

"We don't have time to open all of them, do we?" asked George.

"No, we don't," Sarah answered quickly, turning to grab the frozen Donia by the shoulders and shaking her like a rat. "Come, Sawwan! Pull it together! Think! Think! Thou arte the plotter of plots! The schemer of schemes! The-"

A giggle sounded from over head. They all tilted their heads back.

It was Moaning Myrtle.

Donia grinned.

"Oh Myyyyyyyyyyyyyrtle? Would you so kindly tell us which pump holds the foamy bubbles, please?"

"Why would I do that?" cooed Myrtle.

"Because," And here, the Slytherin muggle got a _very_ nasty look on her face. "Because, I hear the Bloody Baron's never actually been to your bathroom for a visit…"

Draco Malfoy waited till Flitwick had rounded a corner, then skipped his decadently robed way into the Prefect's bathroom. Gloating over: 1. Flitwick's failure, 2. Granger's expression in the morning, 3. How he'd single-handedly managed to expel the muggles from Hogwarts using _Dumbledore_'s own testimony, he turned the taps to 'Hot Water' and began to disrobe.

He was so busy gloating, of course, that he never noticed that the doorway to the room with all the pumps and pipes in it was slightly ajar, which, to say the least, should've struck him as weird. He was so busy gloating that when he saw a muddy footprint by the side of the piscine, he frowned but thought no more of it besides the fleeting mental note to have a stern word with Filch, and slam a few Elven fingers in stove doors. He was so busy gloating, as he slid into the warm water, that when Moaning Myrtle floated out of the pipe room, saying "I wouldn't do that, if I were you…" as he turned on the taps to the foamy bubbles, he told her to "Shut up." and go find a pipe to clean with her face.

Infact, he was _so_ busy gloating the he never noticed that the water now pumping in beneath the original white foamy bubbles was now turning a very, _very_ unusual shade of cerulean blue.

The wisps of dark colour flared and snaked through the water like blood, with the beauty of a limbless sea creature, fading to nothing, at first, before the water began to darken from a barely visible tinge to a dark, inky soup.

Draco noticed nothing.

He dove and bubbled and played, keeping eyes closed beneath the soapy water to prevent stinging. He guggled and giggled and glidded through the warm expanse of the bath, making sure to rinse his hair carefully and to soak every part of himself, including his face.

He was in there for an entire hour when he began to feel relaxation give way to drowsiness. Now, he wanted his warm bed.

He whistled as he dried himself off and put on his pyjamas, then donned his night robe as opposed to his bathrobe. He towelled his hair dry but never actually took a look at the towel, or he would have seen the bright blue stains he'd left on it. He tossed it into the hamper and considered looking at himself in the mirror but decided he'd blow dry tomorrow. He was too tired, now.

The last thing he did, before he left the bathroom, was pull the lever which released the plug in the bath.

He didn't stay to watch the water drain.

He might have been surprised by the lovely royal blue the tiles had turned, beneath.

Draco pranced into the Slytherin common room in a semi-exhausted manner. It had been a long day, after all, though his spirits were high enough to keep him buoyant despite his weariness. The time was close to one thirty in the morning so he really didn't expect anyone else to be up…besides Pansy, of course. The Slytherins were nighthawks, to be sure; but they all had class at eight in the morning. Pansy, though, always took things to a whole new level. Including staying up late.

"Darling, I used up all the bubbles. I can't wait to see Granger's face tomorrow morning. It'll be hilarious. Not to mention the look on her face when those muggles get tossed out on their….Pansy, stop gaping at me like that. _Pansy!"_

"Huh! What!"

"Stop gaping at me. I'm aware that I am possessed of abnormally fine features, but there's no need to stare quite so much with that loutish expression on your…._what's wrong with you?"_

Pansy stared straight into Draco's mildly worried/ mostly irritated face. She gulped; he _really_ had no idea.

"Draco," she began gently, hoping that her calm tone would curb the insane panic that was eminent. "Draco_…why are you blue?__"_

_And that is it, Ladies and Gents!_

_The next chapter includes:_

_Well...the rest of this chapter! _

_The verdict of the trial, Sarah Ogle's biggest moment yet, Steph and Snape's worst clash yet, or, depending on your point of view, their best. Katie's terrifying scene with the paintings, Jess goes to class with the Ravenclaws and Draco learns a hard lesson about crossing Donia. _

_So until next time, let me leave you with a few crucial questions:_

_1. WHy are the paintings oozing black?_

_2. What will it take to win over the Ravenclaws?_

_3. What colour ligerie will I have Steph wear in THIS chapter?_

_4. What DOES 'Hydro-Sensitive' dye mean anyway?_

_5. Is this the end of the line? Will the muggles be tossed out of Hogwarts? Actually, the answer is 'Yes'..._


	11. United: A Muggle Offence Part 2

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARAH! MAY YOU HAVE COPIOUS COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF THEM IN THE FUTURE!_

_Gracious thanks to Enk for being a wonderful Beta and advising me as much as possible. This chapter was an absolute BITCH to write. I'd developed a phobia for it by the end. _

_And much fabulous thanks to WHEEL OF FORTUNE for the fantastic fanart she sent me as encouragement...months ago..._

_Yes, I'm aware it's been a humungously long time since my last update but...it's been a hectic year! Love you guys. Enjoy the crappy chapter. It's insane, I promise._

**Chapter 11. United: A Muggle Offence (Part 2)**

The black half-moons beneath her eyes and the level of difficulty she'd faced dragging herself out of bed at six a.m. still did nothing to alleviate the insane pleasure Donia felt the morning after 'The Mission'.

She was assured that this sensation of heady happiness was truly going to be more of a permanent fixture (at least for the next week or so) when someone grabbed her by the lapels as she rounded the corner, slamming her painfully into the wall and she _still_ felt as chipper as a chequered chipmunk in bag of cheesy chestnuts.

Despite her exhaustion, despite the dull ache of her head being rudely introduced to the wall, Donia couldn't resist grinning at her assailant.

"_SAWWAN…" _wheezed Draco, distraught with grief. "_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!!!!!?" _

"Why, Violet Beauregarde! So nice of you to drop by," tutted Donia non-chalantly. "Wonka told you not to eat that gum…"

"WHAT…..are you…..TALKING…..**ABOUT!?" **roared Draco, eyes veiny and red with rage. "I'm **BLUUUUUUUE!!!!!!"**

"And what a lovely shade it is too, Draco," Donia could barely restrain her mirth. "Shame it's only semi-permanent..."

"**SHUT UUUUUUUUUUP!" **he wailed, letting go of her and grabbing handfuls of his merman hair. "**I'm a FUCKING BLUEBERRY!"** His voice cracked.

"Yes, Malfoy," said Donia, as if he were simple (and really, compared to her, who wasn't?) "Hence my Roald Dahl reference…"

"Muggle…" he faltered. "Why don't you fear me? Why don't you **respect** me?"

Donia paused. What could she say?

_Draco, I think you're hideously clever and under any other circumstance I think we'd get along famously except you're a misogynistic prig?_

_You're a racist prig?_

_You're an insensitive prig?_

_You're a prig in general?_

_I was never big on 'respect' to begin with?_

_I don't like competition? _

_I just think it's God damned funny when you cry?_

Donia didn't believe in moments of truth. So instead, she said, "I _can't_ respect you. You over-tweeze your eyebrows."

The funny thing was, he went with it.

His twitchy eye narrowed suspiciously and his hyper-extended, enlarged crazy eye widened even more and he said, "So….if I let them grow in….you'll respect me?"

"No."

Draco made a non-verbal noise that would have intimidated a grizzly bear and ran screaming down the corridors, cloak flapping behind him like the cape of some demented superhero.

Or Batman.

Or Snape.

* * *

"Eyebrows?" Sarah wasn't the only one staring at the Slytherin shovelling toad-in-a-holes down her throat. "He, I don't know…._forgot_…that he was…let me see, how to put this…_BLUE_….and started asking you about his _eyebrows_?"

"Well, they _are_ hideous, Sarah. I'm surprised that it took the narcissistic, self-absorbed, preening, metrosexual _this_ long to notice."

Katie snuggled up to the Slytherin muggle and rubbed her cheek lovingly against her shoulder. "I like it when you use chain-insults."

"What's wrong with Malfoy's eyebrows?" wondered Jess.

"They've got Permanent Evilitis. Like Nicole Kidman. Overly arched eyebrows giving the impression of permanent anger or a villainous nature."

Jess rolled her eyes. "Do you make this stuff up?"

Katie pouted. "I _like_ Nicole Kidman. I think she's very pretty." Then, getting dreamy, the Gryffindor muggle added, "I _loved_ her in 'Moulin Rouge' !"

Donia shrugged. "She'd be prettier if she didn't over-tweeze."

"Oh what complete poppycock," laughed Jess. "Besides, isn't it more apt for Draco to have _Permanent Evilitis?_ After all, he _is_ evil."

"He's not evil. He's petty. I'm evil." Donia getured towards herself with a fork, casually.

"Oh really? And what's the difference?" smirked Jess.

"Quality."

"Do you think he'll come in for breakfast?" murmured Dubois, pushing her few coco puffs around in her milk.

"It's too early." Sarah shook her head. "Hardly anyone else is here besides us. People won't be up for a while. I bet you the only reason the Prince of Darkness was up at all is because he didn't sleep to begin with."

"Aw," Katie pouted again. "I wanted to see him be all blue and stuff. And I wanted to find out what Hydro-sensitive is…"

"All in good time." smiled Donia. "You'll get your turn with the Gryffindor Greeting. I promise. In the meantime, Sarah and I thought Ron should have the first shot at Draco this morning since, well, Harry will be with us and Ron kind of owes Draco a few ego-bruisers."

"That's so sweet of you, guys!" Katie leaned forward and hugged Sarah and Donia. "Ron'll love it!"

"But, he'll be so disappointed if you buy him a sweater for Christmas," said Jess sarcastically. Then, revealing her true emotions, she finally said, "I'm worried about the tape. We still have Sarah's interview to shoot."

"When the fuck are you going to edit that?" Donia grumbled.

"Well, we'll need you to stall, while I edit in court, under the table." replied the small redhead, not expecting a good reaction to this news.

"So…I can only use the tape at the end of the court session?" Donia suddenly looked stressed.

"'Fraid so, dear." Jess patted her on the shoulder consolingly. "Sorry. But if anyone can do it…you can!"

"You two," the Slytherin glared brokenly at Jess and Katie. "…aren't giving me much to work with here…"

"Good morning, chickens!"

They leapt out of their seats squealing with glee, throwing their arms around Steph, and shoving a plate piled with food into her hands.

"Fefu!" cried Katie happily.

"You should be sleeping in!" scolded Sarah. "You should be resting!"

"I'm fine," laughed Steph, pleasantly surprised at the reception. "I woke up all by myself and Madame Pomfrey gave me a clean bill of health. But speaking of Madame Pomfrey…" she turned to face the Slytherin, her violet-blue peepers full of glee. "She had a very interesting patient with a very interesting malady up there this morning!"

"Really?" the self-satisfied smile on Donia's face belied her uninterested tone.

"Yes," said Steph with cool cunning. "Looked like he'd stepped out of a Johnny Depp film…"

"Mmmmm, Johnny Depp…" purred Sarah .

"Was it a pirate?" murmured Donia, taking a sudden great interest in her manicure.

"No, a human blueberry." Steph grinned. "Well done."

"Thank you. Since you and Sarah are the ones staying behind to hold the fort today, you'll have the chance to see Ron bring about the second phase of the plan…."

"Second phase?" Steph blinked worriedly.

Sarah cut her off. "It's Ron's present. From us…"

"Oh! I want to see the second phase of the plan!" moaned Katie. "In fact, I'd be happy if I saw the _first_ phase of the plan…"

"Priorities, ladies. Priorities," Jess was grinning, none the less. She got to her feet. "Steph, Donnie, we'll leave you two to your breakfast while we go film this interview. Come on, Sarah."

"Why can't you leave _me_ to my breakfast?" muttered the Hufflepuff, protectively wrapping an arm around her plate of sweetened porridge.

"Come _on_, Saaaaaraaah," Jess sang consolingly as she and Katie fished their much taller friend off the seat and ushered her out of the hall.

The two remaining girls watched them go and then turned back to the selection of dishes the elves had so kindly set out for them at least an hour earlier than regular breakfast time was supposed to be.

"They make any coffee?" asked Steph.

"Yeah, here," Donia knelt down, stuck her head between her knees (which mortified Steph for a moment: _just_ where was that coffee coming from?) and pulled a whole pot of it from underneath the table.

"Why is it under the table?"

"Katie got freaked out by how many things we were ordering from the house elves so by the time the coffee had come, I just kind of thought I'd keep it hidden."

"She's really taking this whole elves thing seriously isn't she?"

"My honest opinion?"

"Please."

"We're screwed."

"Eh?"

"Have you _seen_ how people at this school treat House elves? If Katie takes up this S.P.E.W. thing, this _school_ is screwed. That's if there's any hope of us even _making it past_ the trail today, anyway."

"What?" Steph's entertained look turned into one of apprehension. "What do you mean? I thought you guys had it all planned out?"

"Plans…don't always go according to plan," replied Donia with an analytical impartiality that informed Steph that the Slytherin really thought they wouldn't make it through this. "And Lars told me there were a few really big witnesses being called to the stand today. Dumbledore….Snape…"

"Surely we're not worried about Dumbledore?"

"No, no. He's on our side. But Snape…"

"Don't worry about Snape. I'll deal with him."

Donia looked up from her breakfast with a sudden piqued interest. "You will?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I dunno…I'm sure I'll…think of _something_…"

"Tell me so I know when I'm questioning him."

"Oh, he won't be there at all, I promise…"

Donia stared. "You can…._guarantee_…this?"

"Pretty much, yes."

"_HOW?!"_

"I'm _NOT_ going to tell _you_, Sawwan! The entire gang will know before I've finished my sentence!"

"It's _that_ juicy?!"

"No, it's not."

"Please tell, Steph! Please! Pretty please?"

"No! Finish your breakfast, Donia! Or I swear, I'll tell Katie _you_ ordered the coffee from the House Elves, thus collonialising their culture by making them conform to your own!"

"But that's _blackmail_! You're _blackmailing_ me?!"

"No shit, Sherlock!"

Silence.

Donia turned back to her breakfast, brow furrowed.…then…it dawned on her. Face glowing, she rotated ever so slowly towards Steph, and murmured, "You're _blackmailing_ Snape, aren't you?"

Steph sprayed coffee out of her nose.

* * *

"Miss Ogle," said Katie, holding the microphone to her own mouth. "Hypothetically, if you were ever attacked by the Slytherins while harmlessly minding your own business… how would you react?"

Sarah barely even waited for the mike to reach her mouth. "I'd fucking make it so they never even dared to _think_ of do it again, the buggering bastards! The whole lot of them need to be taught a lesson in fucking manners! Man, I'd like to grab a whole lot of their noggins and bang 'em together till I made Slytherin lemonade, that's for sure, the dirty faggot buggering wankers! The mother-fucking, balls-lickin' pieces of putrid shite!"

"Um… Sarah?" Jess attempted to stop the tirade, especially that Katie seemed helplessly shell-shocked into silence.

"No! I mean, I'm sorry, but, what the hell? Do they simply expect us to stand by and take the whooping hoping for some obscure Wizarding justice to be carried out in our diffence? PUH-LEASE! We're muggles! Yeah, I said it! I called myself a muggle. And if they think they can weave their pathetic mumbo jumbo legalities around _us_ well, they should try spending a blooming _day_ in the muggle world and face the liabilities they'd run into….the bastards…"

"_RIGHT!_" cried Jess, slamming the camera's view finder shut. "Thanks, that was great…"

"But I'm not done yet!"

"That's all we have time for, unfortunately, Sarah. Thanks, though! Go finish breakfast; we'll see you in a bit, yeah?"

"Yeah, whatever," growled Sarah, still in a fighting mood.

"Holy shit," breathed Katie after their friend had rounded the corner and they were sure she was out of hearing-range. "Good Lord, Jess, what are we going to do with _that?"_

"Edit," replied the Ravenclaw desperately. "Edit….like…crazy."

* * *

"Right," said Harry. "Who's coming?""

"Me." said Jess. "And Katie and Donia."

"I….doooooon't…..wannaaaaaaaaa……" moaned Donia, looking jaundiced. Katie rubbed her friend's back kindly.

"Come on, then. Up you get."

"Bye!" murmured Steph smiling hopefully.

"Break a leg, you guys." cried Sarah.

They got to their feet, following Harry to the anti-chamber.

"Don't feel so good…" The Slytherin muttered weakly.

"You ate too much too fast…" replied Jess.

"I always eat too much too fast! My stomach's used to it. It's this stupid trail! And the fact that your still editing! Jess! Why are you _still_ editing?!"

This was true. Jess was not looking where she was going. She was being stirred by Harry who was walking behind her, propelling her by the elbows. The Ravenclaw muggle was fully preoccupied by doing some heavy handed editing on the camera that very instant.

Jess looked up and stuck her tongue out at Donia, who got so preoccupied with sticking hers out right back that the anti-chamber door almost hit her in the face when Lupin opened it. Katie barely had enough time to yank her friend back by the ponytail before the door could rearrange her face. As it was, Lupin was just in time to have his first impression of Donia tainted (or honestly portrayed, depending on one's point of view) by her gleefully waggling her long pink tongue out at Harry and Jess.

He raised his eyebrows. "The _Slytherin_ muggle I presume?"

The _Slytherin_ muggle scowled and stuck her tongue right back out at him.

"You're incorrigible." sighed Katie. "Can't take you anywhere. Hello," she turned to Lupin. "I'm the Gryffindor muggle…"

He laughed and took her hand introducing himself.

"Right," said Jess pushing past blindly. "We're sort of ready to take off, if everyone's…Where's Professor Dumbledore?"

"We have no idea." replied Kingsley Shacklebolt grimly. "Arthur and Charlie went on ahead to see if he's at court but we're sure he isn't…."

This was about the time that the conversation kind of faded out for Katie. She had just spotted a box of Cheerios at the back of the room, next to where a very nervous Donia was standing watching the proceedings wide-eyed.

Making a beeline around the people preoccupied with the whereabouts of a missing headmaster, Dubois headed for the box of starch-rings.

As if acting as impromptu Defense wasn't enough to make her sweat, the more Donia listened to the panic ensuing due to Dumbledore's absence the more she edged towards hysteria. Perhaps that was why she didn't actually notice that Katie was reaching hungrily for the box of Cheerios until it was too late.

As it was, Katie's fingertips had just brushed the cereal when Donia grabbed her sleeve, crying, "No-"

There was a swirling, whirling, suctioning, squeezing disorienting sensation, then both girls materialised three feet off the ground at the designated reception area in the Ministry of Magic…but of course they didn't know this.

All they could tell was that they'd somehow been shunted off to another place, kind of resembling a Red Carpet to the premier of a Hollywood film, where reporters where currently in a frenzy snapping incessant photos and flashes at them and screaming strange questions.

"The _HELL_, Dubois!" yelled Donia furiously. "Can't you hold the rabid sugar craving for just one freaking MINUTE!"

Katie gaped at her. "I didn't plan this! I didn't know they were freakin' magical Cheerios!"

"They were on a freaking PEDESTAL! Unless they were MAGICAL, why would anyone put CHEERIOS on a FUCKING PEDESTAL!!!!!"

"Why WOULDN'T anyone put Cheerios on a FUCKING PEDESTAL!?!?"

"………….Go back in your mind and think that statement through _veeeery_ carefully…."

"Oh don't lecture me, Miss Impulse-Of-The-Week," snorted Katie, folding her arms across her chest. "If they were made of MEAT, we wouldn't be having this conversation!"

Donia gasped at this preposterous, scandelous declaration. Then growling deeply, she proceeded pulling up one of her sleeves, and whispered, "That's it. You're going down, bitch…"

"Bring it on, cow!" sang Katie, taking a power stance with her legs.

"Well, which is it, Katherine? Am I a cow? Or do I eat cows?" Sneered Donia shoving th blonde in the shoulder. "Can't be something I eat, now, can I?"

"You're right!" Katie shoved her back even harder, making Donia stumble a few steps. "I guess that makes you a PIG!"

With an Earth-shattering scream of doom, the Slytherin launched herself at the Gryffindor and they both shot back into the volley of reporters. Punches and kicks flew, but both girls were tangled up so savagely that neither one could hit the other. Instead, camera after camera went flying, shattering into a thousand pieces. Anyone in the vicinity, whether by coincidence or by trying to stop the fight, went wheeling away with injury. The wizards scrambled away in fear, stampeding each other in mortification.

The fight lasted all of three devastating minutes, then the two muggles somehow managed to roll themselves back onto the mangled red carpet and collapse apart, panting and wheezing, in mutual humiliation. That was when they both her a muffled 'Boof' and out of a cloud of dusty lilac smoke, emerged Harry, Jess, Kingsley and Remus.

Jess loomed over the both of them, her face unamused. "Idiots." she murmured, then dispassionately stepped over them and headed towards the courtroom. "You made Professor Lupin go look for the Kelloggs…"

* * *

It was seven thirty in the morning and the Great Hall was brimming with ravenous students. Steph and Sarah were still working on their last few mouthfuls of food, when the twins suddenly materialised on either side of El Presidenté.

"Malfoy," murmured Fred, handing Sarah a white, satin top hat.

"Is right outside the doors," finished George, handing her a black, showman's cane.

Steph raised her eyebrows, half in curiosity, half in fear.

"What's he doing?" asked Sarah accepting her costume pieces and putting them on the bench next to her.

"Probably debating on whether he wants to come in or not." said George.

"He'll need convincing…" said the girl.

"We'll be there," stated Fred confidently as they slowly walked away, as if nothing more than breakfast was on their minds.

"What-" began Steph.

"Morning!" chirped Hermione, approaching. Then: "Oh, dear…"

Ron was virtually convulsing with excitement. He rushed at Sarah. "Can we do it? Can we go?"

"Shhhshhhhhhh!" she hissed, batting his hand away from her top hat. "Cool it, Weasley! You're going to spoil my grand entrance!"

"What grand entrance?" said Ron, mulishly. "You're already here…"

Steph saw Sarah looking off into space and followed her gaze to the Great Hall's closed doors, where one of the twins, Fred (or George, who could tell anyway) was giving her the thumbs up. There simply was no telling where the other twin was….

"This grand entrance…."murmured Sarah, tilting the top hat on to her head and rising to her feet.

"Oh! No…Sarah…" Steph tried to grab her by the pants but succeeded in nothing but pulling them down embarrassingly low.

Sarah pulled her sagging trousers back into place and cleared her throat loudly. Then, seeing people turn in their seats to watch, she looked down at her red faced best friend and smiled. "Cane?"

Looking firmly at her empty bowl of porridge, Steph held up the cane wordlessly. Hermione and Ron watched, mouths hanging open.

"Thanks." Sarah twirled the cane a few times for show, then yelled, "Ladies and Gentlemen! A moment of your time if you please!"

Steph looked at the head table anxiously just in time to see all the Professors freeze mid bite/sip/slurp/crunch. Flitwick dropped his cup.

Snape rolled his eyes and threw his fork across the table. Folding his arms, he leaned back in his seat and snarled. "Not this again…"

Minerva staggered to her feet, mouth opening and closing silently as if she couldn't breath.

"The moment you've all been waiting foooooooor…." roared Sarah. "Is _finally here!" _

"Miss Ogle!" called McGonagal, an obvious quaver in her voice.

She was ignored.

"Those of you who have money riding on this moment of truth, this revelation of mysteries-"

"BUCK UP!" yelled Seamus.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Argh…..the Irish…"

"_You're_ Irish!" Seamus seethed.

Something flew across the table and bounced off his head. It was a tangerine.

"Shut up and listen." snarled Steph.

Sarah commenced her announcement. "You had four colours to choose from….no clues…no hints as to how the winning colour would manifest itself. Your four choices were Red, Yellow, Green and Blue…."

A murmur of excitement ran through the students.

A murmur of foreboding ran through the professors.

"Now, in a sudden bout of generosity, my associates, Weasley and Weasley, and I, decided that we should have two winning sub colours as well!"

There were cheers from the audience.

"YES, ladies and gents! So if you picked any of THREE winning colours you've won your bet!"

_Genius_, thought Steph, shaking her head and taking another swig of coffee to steady herself.

"What?" Hermione looked confused. "How are they making money off this then?"

"I bet you they're making _some_ money." said Ginny leaning over behind Dean's back. "Maybe not as much as if they'd let three of the four lose as opposed to win…"

"But…."

"Publicity," said Dean enthusiastically. "They've just won over a huge portion of the student population that's going to want a piece of whatever the hell they ome up with _next time_…"

"_NEXT_….time?" whimpered Hermione.

"Right!" called Sarah. "Drrrrrrrrrrrrrrum roll!"

Several Hufflepuffs began knocking the sides of their goblets with their spoons.

"Ready for the reveal?" the ringmaster cried.

"YES!" screamed her audience.

"I caaaaaaaan't heeeeeaaaaaaar yooooooooooou!"

The screaming rose to such a pitch in the great hall that several of the professors began to stand, hands at their ears, wands at the ready, McGonagal in the lead.

"Oh goodness, hurry up Sarah!" hissed Steph seeing this.

"**NOW!**" howled Sarah.

The Weasley twin by the door shouted 'ALAHAMORA' and the Great Doors exploded open just as the _other _Weasley twin on the other side picked up someone by the collar and literally tossed them into the Great Hall.

The Tossed One rolled in a mess of robes for a solid couple of seconds before lying on the floor, silent and still as a corpse.

There was a dead silence of anticipation hanging in the air, powerful in it's lack of sound as the screaming a moment before had been in its ear-shattering effect. Even the Professors had frozen halfway through their rise to arms.

Then, the person on the floor moved, put their hands on the ground and pulled themselves up, in as dignified a pace as they could manage under the circumstances, and pushed the tail of their wizard's robe off their head.

A collective gasp and even a few shocked cries sounded throughout the Great Hall as Draco Malfoy revealed his new….look.

Steph turned her head quickly to watch the professors, just in case any of them were thinking of blasting Sarah with a death ray of doom on behalf of Malfoy.

None of them seemed capable.

Every single jaw at the head table was hanging loosely on its hinges, every eye had widened to twice its healthily recommended size. McGonagal slowly collapsed back into her seat, which was ironic, really, compared to Snape who had finally taken an interest in what was happening and had come forward in his seat, hands white-knuckled, face pale with outrage.

Sure that the Professors were suitably immobilised, Steph turned to the second possible source of retaliation, the Slytherin Table….

No….no, they were just as useless as the Professors at this point. Even the ones who possibly could have known about it, like the boy, Jon, and Lars, the tall senior, seemed incapable of movement. They probably hadn't really expected it to be pulled off, or pulled off so _well_…

Well, they didn't know Sarah and Donia like Steph did. She almost felt sorry for Hogwarts.

Almost.

Steph's train of thought was suddenly interrupt by some genius from the Gryffindor table, possibly a Creevey brother, yelling, "Draco Malfoy's blue! Oh my God he's _BLUE! _I'm taking a picture…"

That was when the tidal wave of shock finally crashed.

There were loud, noisome cheers from people who _had_ voted blue, or just plain hated Draco Malfoy, and most of them came stampeding over to Sarah, almost knocking her off the table.

"Wait!" cried Sarah in a panic. "I'm not done yet! There's more! I…Ow! HEEEEEELLP!"

"Sarah!" yelled the Twins running towards her from the doorway.

"Draco!" shrieked Pansy, Blaise and several other Slytherin girls as a whole kerfuffle of Slytherin boys leapt forward to retrieve their leader.

"Wait! No!" protested Draco as his housemates attempted to bundle him up and whisk him away out of the public eye. "I'm _not_ going to just run away, you idiots!" he howled.

"MISS OGLE!" roared Minerva. "WHAT HAPPENED TO MR. MALFOY! MISS OGLE! MISS OGLE!"

Snape too, was on his feet and yelling. "WEASELY! DETENTION! WEASLEY DETENTION! WEASLEY DETENTION! OGLE! DETENTION! FINNIGAN! DETENTION! THOMAS! DETENTION! CREEVEY! DETENTION! CREEVEY DETEEEENTIOOOON!"

Minerva turned on him. "WHY DON'T YOU TRY GIVING DETENTIONS TO YOUR OWN HOUSE, ONCE IN A WHILE, SEVERUS!"

"STUDENTS FROM MY HOUSE ARE TOO BUSY TURNING BLUE!" he roared back.

"Ow!" screamed Sarah as hands grabbed at her. "Let go of me!"

"LET GO OF HER!" snarled the twins in unison, now on the table, holding firmly on to Sarah and kicking away anyone who dared come too close.

Then, as if the wound needed salting, the Hufflepuffs began to leave their table in groups of two or three to avidly punch at the crowd of Slytherins, bettors and debtors surrounding _their_ leader.

And Ron was yelling, "Hey! What about me?! What about what I'm supposed to do?! Sarah!"

"Holy shit…" whispered Steph in utter disbelief. "This really takes the cake…"

Then out of the corner of her eye, Steph caught Hermione pulling out her wand and felt the bottom of her already significantly tight stomach drop even further.

_Oh damn! The last thing this fray needs right now is magic!_ "Hermione! NO!"

"_Immobliaris_!" yelled Hermione pointing her wand at the closest scuffle of Hufflepuffs vs. Sarah's clients. "_Immobliaris! Immobliaris! Immobliaris!"_

"GRANGER! DETENTION!" shrieked Snape, beside himself with rage.

"WHAT?!" keaned Hermione. "That's not fair! I was just-! Oh what the hell… _Immobiliaris!"_

"_Slimiticus!"_ yelled Ginny, clambering on to the table with her brothers. "_Pockmarkius! Dandruffora Majora_!"

"WEASLEY DETENTION!" wailed Snape as he and Minerva finally came to blows and grabbed each others' robes. The other professors instantly began attempting to pry them apart unsuccessfully.

"You've already given me detention!" sneered Ginny, sticking out her tongue at the preoccupied Snape.

One of Ginny's victims, developing a major dandruff problem flew into Steph, who'd been managing to stay out of the fight pretty well till then. Giving him a shove that sent the boy careening back into the battle Steph stood up just in time to watch Ron join his siblings on the table….

But there was no wand in his hand; he held a goblet full of water.

"Oh no…" breathed Steph, as the meaning of the term '_Hydro-sensitive'_ began to make itself clear to her.

"Do it, Ron!" Fred and George demanded.

Steph turned desperate eyes to where Draco still stood surrounded by his own folk. Ron had an advantage, from the height he stood at.

And indeed, when the water went flying, it flew in a high ark above many heads, only to land with a bright, sparkling splash right on to Draco's immaculately coiffed merman blue crown.

Once again, the entire Hall seemed to gasp in unison. Even Snape and McGonagal seemed to have stopped balling their fists into each other's robes long enough to gape at what happened next.

Draco barely had a moment to stutter, "Wh…wh-what's happening…?" before the deep cerulean of his skin began to morph into exceedingly bright and radiant stripes of canary yellow and fire engine red, running up and down his face, head and hair, like a Las Vegas neon sign, in alternating orders. Then, a high, tinny little voice began to pipe out of the Draco's head, or so it seemed, but it was probably the dye, singing in a clear, adorable, operatic grandeur that could only be managed by a choir of five year-olds, and it sang:

"-Weasely is our King,  
Weasely is our King,  
He didn't let the Quaffle in,  
Weasley is our King!"

Steph felt like her head might explode, and judging from the expressions on everyone else's faces too, from Draco Malfoy to Ron Weasley to Minerva McGonagal and Severus Snape, to Hermione Granger and Justin Finch-Fletchley and Lars Uhrig, no one felt safe from the Exploding Head Syndrome either, at this point.

This time, when the wave of noise exploded out of the shocked silence, it was magnified by a volley of uncontrollable, hysterical laughter coming from everyone and anyone who had previously decided to do nothing but finish their breakfast peacefully, which was most of the Ravenclaws and more than half of the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. The Slytherins were collectively livid, and this time, Draco allowed himself to be virtually carried off by his men, like some wounded Roman general.

His personal guard charged the Great Hall doors and trampled anyone in their path until they got to the Infirmary, where a Madame Pomfrey who was, frankly, sick of seeing Draco Malfoy that morning, told them that she'd already tried everything she could to get the dye off him, and yes she _did_ know about the red and yellow singing stripes, as she'd actually tried to _wash_ the blue dye off Draco just that morning…and NO, Draco was NOT going to die…well, maybe of embarassment, but there was nothing she could give him for that.

Meanwhile, back in the Great Hall, the crowd of people waiting to win money had increased considerably and so could act as a control shield around the people who'd lost. The only losing colour had obviously been green, so the losers were mostly composed of Slytherins…and stupid people, something, Steph was sure, Sarah had intended.

Draining off her final swallow of coffee, Steph turned back to the Professors' table to find that even the adults seemed to have voted to helplessly return to their soggy oats. All except Snape, who was angrily pulling his robes into shape. McGonagal wordlessly waved him off, when he bent down to say something spiteful, then he straightened again, his eyes momentarily meeting Stephanie's. He sneered, much too jovial for a man whose house had just suffered mortifying ridicule, and swept out of the Great Hall.

_He's going to court_, thought Steph, contemplatively rising out of her seat. _And to think…the only reason I know for sure is because he leered at me…_

Barely anyone noticed her leave, and certainly no one would've guessed Snape's quarters to be her destination.

* * *

"Your honour," Jess stood up at Scringeour's behest.

"We meet again, Miss Frey. Hopefully you feel that you have been given a chance to defend yourself, fairly, in this matter…"

"Yes, your Honour," replied Jess. "We're ready."

"Good," Scrimgeour looked down, through his reading spectacles, trying to call the first witness.

"Except for one thing!" Jess bit her lip and felt the entire court eye her critically. Scrimgeour looked downright filled with dread with what she may say next. "I'm delegating defence to my colleague…" She reached under the defence table and hauled Donia out by the scruff of her neck. "Donia Sawwan."

"H…hi…" Donia waved weakly and wobbled on her feet dangerously. Katie who was sitting in an observer's seat right behind, with Lupin, Kingsley, Arthur and Charlie Weasley, put a subtle but supportive hand out against the small of Donia's back to prop her up.

Harry looked very closely at Katie's face but she was looking studiously at the ceiling above her, with big, innocent blank eyes. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry but if Katie seriously thought that no one noticed the fact that she was the only reason Donia was standing, she was sorely mistaken.

Turning to look at Carmella, Harry could see the same sickened expression one got when kicking a puppy on the woman's pretty face. Not only was she confident she was going to CREAM the muggles….she wasn't going to feel mean doing it because of how _easy_ it was going to be.

The Boy-Who-Lived put his face in his hands and tried not to cringe too much.

Scrimgeour rolled his eyes. "Are you _sure_, Miss Frey?" he droned.

_He probably thinks we're determined to doom ourselves_, thought Jess. _Well, he won't see us coming…_

"Very well, then," he sighed, turning to address Carmella, who had earlier gotten into Donia's Black Book of Contempt for wearing purple stilettos to court.

_Really_, thought Jess. _Donia has the weirdest discriminatory logic against people sometimes…. I think Carmella's georgous…Just like Cho Chang's georgous…I wonder what fashion faux-pas Cho's committed…_

"Are you ready to call your first witness?"

"Yes, your honour." Carmella intoned.

_Maybe it's because Donia's a vamp herself; she can afford to hate other women because their shoes clash with the décor…not because their hair is perfect, and their skin glows and they're all so tall and leggy…_

_Huh,_ Jess gave herself a mental shake. _When did I start to get depressing?_

"I call to the stand…Miss Penelope Clearwater."

A murmur ran through the reporters sitting at the back of the courtroom.

"A _Ravenclaw?_" whispered Katie, taken off guard.

"I think this is what Cho was talking about." said Harry. "I can't believe they'd go this far."

"Hey isn't that the bitch that gave you over to Draco that one time?" hissed Donia to Jess.

"Yes," replied Jessica. "That's her."

"She's also Percy's ex-girlfriend…" Charlie muttered under his breath. "They deserved each other, if you ask me…"

"Who's Percy? " Donia arched an eyebrow.

"The Weasley brother who received Lucius' letter at the ministry and brought it to the media's attention." explained Jess.

"Really. How… interesting."

* * *

Sarah and the twins had somehow managed to flee the Great Hall after a needed rescue team arrived, led by two upper year Hufflepuffs by the names of Kaitlin Eccles and Joshua…Just Joshua….no one really knew Joshua's second name…He was a man of few words, behind his long blond hair and his glasses.

Despite this he had risen in the ranks along with Kaitlin, whom, apparently, he was dating, and come to Sarah's attention as two of the most militant Huffles in the house.

Sarah and the Weasely Twins had been whisked away by their rabble, much like Draco had been grabbed by his, and were currently barricaded in the Hufflepuff common room.

"We'll be missing our NEWT Divination class again." remarked Fred.

"Like you care," gasped Sarah, still in utter disbeleif that she'd survived being mobbed. "Trelawney's dotty anyway."

" 'Dotty' doesn't quite cover it, love," said George.

"Unless you're talking about her underwear," sniggered Fred.

George began to snigger too. "Yeah…but then that doesn't cover it either!"

"You two," Sarah arched an eyebrow. "Are the bottom of the barrel of maturity. And coming from _me_, that's saying something. So Trelawney did a bunch of LSD in the 60s…fried her brain a little. Cut her _some_ slack, boys," Sarah ran her fingers through her long gold tresses, trying to untangle it and discovered that she actually had a chunk missing out of the back of her head. "Do you know?" she mused, staring at the blood on her fingers from her scalp. "I don't think there'll be much left of me by the time we leave Hogwarts…"

Kaitlin and Josh approached, the girl bouncing with excitement, the boy apatheticly stoic.

"Presedenté!" giggled Kaitlin. "It worked! Last night's mission totally ruled!"

"And we're making at least a 25 percentile return which will aid us in the completion of Operation Dizzy Snake…" confirmed Josh with a neutral smile that was no more that the straightening of the lips.

"25 percentile return!" cried Sarah appauled.

"That's fantastic!" cried the twins leaping to their feet and beginning to dance around the common room.

"But it means that a quarter of our bettors bet on GREEN being our colour of choice. Which invariably means that a quarter of our bettors are either Slytherin….or stupid!"

"Or both." squeaked Kaitlin grinning like a Cheshire.

"What do we care! We have a 25 percentile return!" Fred moaned.

"We can put all that money towards restocking the shop!" George was still dancing around Sarah's throne.

"NO!" snapped Sarah.

"WHAT?!" howled the boys. "Sarah!"

"I know what I'm doing, guys. You need to trust me. I haven't let you down yet, have I?"

The twins looked at her grudgingly and muttered, "No…"

"Then take your shirts off so I can get in the zone and think this through properly."

"What?"

"Shirts. Off. I need hotness to reach peak functionality."

With a weary sigh, Fred and George complied, taking off their ties and disrobing.

"Aaaaaaaaah. Much better," Sarah sank back into her throne and glowed appreciatively for a few moments.

"See?" Kaitlin elbowed Josh and pointed at the twins. "That's what you should do for me."

"Maybe later." he murmured.

"It's cold." said Fred.

"Good. It keeps your nipples perky. Now listen. This money's not going to restocking Weselys' Wizard Weezes…" said Sarah. "_Where's_ my septre?"

"Here," Kaitlin produced a long plastic baton with a flying pig perched on the top.

"Thank you. No, no. This money is going into funding Operation Dizzy Snake. Then, the money from Operation Dizzy Snake will be so overwhelmingly copulent we'll not only be able to restock shelves at The 3 Ws, we'll be able to launch the new Muggle Pranks line too."

"Nothing makes that much profit, Sarah," muttered Fred unhappily.

"This will. I promise." She reache up and patted him on the head soothingly. "And now to delegate. Kaitlin, Josh…"

"YES!" grinned Kaitlin.

Josh grunted to signal he was listening.

"I'll need you to form a rendez-vous team to meet our men inside the Slytherin encampment…"

"By 'encampment' you mean common room, and by 'men' you mean the two gay guys and the really sarcastic girl?"

"Lars, Jon and Beth, yes." admitted Sarah.

"Okay." piped Kait, bouncing away, dragging Josh behind her.

"What are we supposed to do?" asked George.

"Yeah, Sarah." Fred Pouted. "We're starting to feel pretty useless."

"Oh no, my chickens. I need you to do something very very important," Sarah bent forward and put an arm around each twin's waist. "Besides providing hotness to my domain, I need you to take the money we made off Operation Blue Lagoon and buy as much food and candy as you can manage to smuggle into the castle without Filch finding out…"

"What for?"

"We'll be selling it."

"Where's the profit in that?"

"We'll sell it at three times the original price."

"No one'll buy it."

"Oh trust me, boys." Sarah leaned back, her face was suddenly thrown into shadow. " It _will_ be bought."

* * *

"Miss Penelope Clearwater," Carmella strode confidently forward. "Could you please tell this court how your grades have dropped since the induction of the muggle intruder into the Ravenclaw dormitory-"

"Objection, your honour." Donia leapt to her feet.

"Your Honour, it's my first question…" began Carmella in disbelief."

"And already you're leading the witness? Shame on you." snarled the muggle.

A murmur of shock rippled through the audience.

Scrimgeour banged the gavel. "Miss…Miss…"

"Sawwan."

"You better have a very good justification for your interruption…"

"As I said," said Donia. "First question and you're already leading the witness," she gave Carmella a glare. "You'll have to do better than that."

"How am I leading the witness?" Carmella held out her hands in frustration.

"LISTEN TO THE WORDING OF YOUR SENTENCE!" yelled Donia dramatically.

"Miss Sawwan!" Scrimgeour's eyebrows seemed to have fused into one single caterpillar-like band with shock.

"Someone's watched way too much 'Law and Order'..." muttered Katie.

"Your Honour, this lawyer asks the witness how her grades dropped when a muggle was put in her dormitories when the desired answer she's looking for is that the grades have dropped, isn't that it?" Donia rounded on Carmella again. "Doesn't that constitute answering the question for the witness and therefore leading said witness to your desired conclusion?"

"I…I...what?" stuttered the older woman in shock.

"Oh please!" spat the Slytherin muggle. "Please! Devious we can handle, but this blatant forging of facts to suite your agenda is just insulting!"

"ORDER! Order!" howled Scrimgeour as the reporters roared with laughter and enthusiasm at this unforeseen wringing-out by the Defence, rising in their seats like a tidal wave, cameras flashing.

Donia leaned forward on the table, eyes narrowed maliciously at Carmella. _"Reword you question!"_

Carmella blanched and glared back at Donia, then turned her eyes swiftly to Jess.

"Don't look at me." murmured Jess, voice barely audible above the roar of on-lookers. "You had your chance to do the right thing without insult. Now you deal with the Slytherin…"

Carmella looked back at Donia hurriedly. "Oh! So you're the-"

"I see you've heard of me." replied Donia.

"OOOOOOOOORDER!" Scrimgeour had gotten to his feet. Then, "Miss Mistlethwaite, for the love of all things sane, please rephrase your question and get on with it."

"Gladly, your Honour." Carmella put her game face on and turned back to Penelope. "How are your grades?"

The Ravenclaw's glasses flashed coldly in the sunlight seeping down form the high, narrow windows in the ceiling of the court. Jess remembered that same calculated effortless look the day Penelope had chosen to hand her over to Draco Malfoy in the Hogwarts corridor.

"They've dropped considerably." replied Penelope.

"In your opinion, what has made them drop?"

"My inability to concentrate in my common room."

"Why can't you concentrate.?"

"The noise," Penelope trained her fishy eyes on to Jess meaningfully. Something about that contemptuous expression mirrored Percy Weasley's to a T. Something told Jess that they'd been a fitting couple, while they'd lasted. "The muggle makes a lot of noise. Perhaps they don't study, where she comes from...

"Perheaps they don't study where she comes from..." repeated Donia in a high squeaky voice.

Scrimgeour frowned.

Penelope stared coldly for moment, then continued. "I don't know. What I do know is that her being at Hogwarts is making me and my classmates suffer."

"Thank you. No further questions, your honour." Carmella took her seat.

The reporters murmured. This was supposedly an impartial witness; a Ravenclaw should have no reason to purposefully defame the muggles unless they really were disruptive to life at Hogwarts.

"You may step down, Miss Clearwa-"

"She's my witness, your honour." Donia came around the table, flicking back her black mane of hair at Carmella.

Sitting next to Harry, Katie began to giggle, her face growing purple with amusement.

"What are you laughing about?" whispered Harry, feeling like he needed a joke right now.

"She's going to be so rude!" laughed Katie. "Look at Carmella's face! She's so insulted! And Donia hasn't even started yet!"

Against his will, Harry realised that his own lips were quirking upward. Even their guardians, Lupin, Mr. Weasley, Kingsley and Charlie didn't seem quite so stricken as they had been in the first trial. Could this be hope, Harry wondered?

"Miss Clearwater," Donia gave the other girl a stern gaze that battled the Ravenclaw's cold one like water to fire. "I have many….many questions to pose to you. It must be stated to the court though, that, as a witness, I think you're a ludicrous choice."

Katie shrieked with laughter at this, but hardly anyone heard her over the collective yell of scandle that went up from everyone else. Harry found himself standing on his feet with everyone else.

Except Jess, who sat where she was and smiled with satisfaction at what was happening. Yes, this was brilliant. Perfect, even. She _knew_ the moment she set Donia to this charade of a court room it would all come raining down around the Wizarding community's ears.

No, they were _not_ to be tossed out without a fight, damn it!

"Miss Sawwan, if you harangue the witness again I shall have you tossed out." said Scrimgeour once the noise had receeded enough for him to be heard.

"Fine," conceeded Donia. "But just so it's said, these witnesses are an insult to Wizarding justice."

"Well," Lupin blinked. "If nothing else, she's keeping the journalists busy."

"Yeah, " said Charlie. "Can you hear all the quills scratching?"

Harry looked from them, to Katie, who had her knees up under her chin and was rocking back and forth, laughter muffled in her clothing. She didn't seem the least bit worried by this.

"Yes, well, it's said!" snapped Scrimgeour, his old-man cheeks reddening considerably, maybe because he slightly agreed with her. "Now, are you going to question the witness or shall she step down?"

"No, I'll question her." Donia turned back to Penelope. This time, the cold detatchment was gone, replaced by a sufficiently outraged glare from the other girl. "Miss Clearwater, you said your marks were dropping."

"Yes." snapped Penelope.

"Because a muggle moved in?"

"Precisely." stated the Ravenclaw.

"Don't lie to the court, Miss Clearwater," said Donia suddenly.

Uproar again.

"Jess!" Lupin leaned forward and grabbed the little redhead's shoulder. "Jess….is your friend quite sure of what she's doing?"

"I don't really know…" murmured Jess back. "But….I'm willing to let her run with it, at this point…"

"Miss Sawwan!" Scrimgeour stood up.

"SIT DOWN!" demanded Donia.

He did, more out of dizziness at being told to sit by a teenager than anything else.

"I know what I'm doing." said Donia, suddenly reassuring a crowd that collectively was highly doubting her. "Miss Clearwater you said you were _precisely_ sure that it was the muggle that was the reason for your sudden grade decline and I said your were lying. Care to hazard a guess why?"

"No, I don't care to." snapped Penelope. "You're the lawyer. Make it up."

"Ooooooooh," Katie's eyes widened. "She just better _not_ get mouthy with Sawwan…"

Donia hissed bestially at the other girl. "Oh very funny, Miss Clearwater. Fortunately for justice, this isn't optional. Answer the question."

"Damn!" exclaimed Kingsley. "The girl's a ball-knocker…"

Katie squealed with excitement.

Penelope fell silent, looking more ambushed than ever.

"Fine, let me hazzard a guess. Could the answer be because you _are _lying, Miss Clearwater? There is NO WAY you know PRECISELY…yes, that was the word you used….PRECISELY that the muggle was the direct result your grades slipped. ANd there's really no way for you to prove it. Therefore, you are a lier."

The courtroom rumbled. Scrimgeour didn't even bang his gavel; he was far too interested with what was going on to break his focus.

"Infact," Donia went on, "The more LIKELY reason for your decline in grades is the fact that YOU have not been as attentive to your studies as you could have been lately…"

"NEVER!" screamed Penelope, leaping to her feet. "Don't you dare! I work hard!"

"Hard enough to blame your failure on an innocent by-stander like Jessica Frey?" Spittle flew out of the Slytherin muggle's mouth as she contorted her arm to point at her friend, sitting quietly at the defense table. "You even got the _NICE_ muggle, Miss Clearwater! What do you have to complain about?!"

Laughter erupted from the stands, and applause broke out spotily. This time, Scrimgeour _did_ hammer.

"I'm a Ravenclaw!" cried Penelope desperately. "I study! Well!

"Then your grades shouldn't be dropping," spat Donia. "Be a disgrace to your house on your own time, Miss Clearwater, not on Jess Frey's."

Harry couldn't believe his ears! This was brilliant.

"Any more questions, Miss Sawwan?" Said Scrimgeour warningly, he wanted to release Penelope; the girl looked faint with humiliation.

"No more questions but a motion to disregard the witness' testimonial."

"On What grounds!" Carmella had had enough. She brought angry fist down on the table, making a goblet of water set there for her topple over.

"On the grounds that this witness has the ulterior agenda of having been romantically involved with the recipient of the letter sent by the Good Samaritan, and is therefore cannot qualify as a disinterested opinion."

"**SNAP!**" yelled Katie, making Harry, Jess and Lupin jump violently.

Penelope Clearwater looked livid beyond possibility.

Scrimgeour looked…impressed.

So he raised his gavel and brought it down in a single, ceremonial bang.

"Witness' statement disregarded."

* * *

Lars pushed his seat back, hearing the familiar thunderous scrape of a thousand other chairs sliding back against cobblestones at the end of a class shake Hogwarts like a stampede.

It never failed to impress him how much effect on this huge, ancient, fortified castle the simple action of thousands of student chairs being scraped back in unison had. _Imagine if the student body unified to do other things…like…say…defeat Voldemort…OR overthrow the Ministry…_

Either way, he had a feeling the result would be quite surprising.

Lars wasn't sure just where he stood exactly, in this war, but that was him and most Slytherins, anyway, so he spent most of his days trying not to think about it or plan too far in advance.

Well, how could he?

The problem most people had with Slytherins was that people automatically assumed that they were on Voldemort's side…

And well…Voldemort's side _was tempting _when you considered the clap-trap job the Ministry tended to do on most things.

And the Order of the Phoenix? Harry Freaking Potter could be as fucking self-righteous as he liked; his beloved Order was just another type of Death Eater Army.

"Lars, are you coming?" Jon's voice broke Lars' train of thought.

It took Lars a moment to collect his thoughts and actually remember the 'meeting' he was supposed to attend between classes.

Which was a good thing since it took Jon a moment to stop thinking of Lars…naked….in bed…rolling around in nothing but strategically placed sheets….

"Good God thanks for reminding me!" Lars looked so flabbergastingly messed that Jon secretly felt it only fair to promise never to say the words 'Lars are you coming' anytime where its reply would ever be anything besides, "Oh YES! YES! YES!"

"Let's go now." whispered Lars.

"Yes please let's…" muttered Jon.

"What?"

"I said 'Onwards, the bathroom awaits' ."

They were halfway to the boys bathroom on their floor, trying not to look too inconspicuous when Lars noticed Jon's quickly purpling face.

"Was it some sort of joke? The bathroom?" he wondered.

_More like wishful thinking,_ thought Jon, but all he said was, "Um…no…it's great for secret meetings and such…"

Lars froze, his hand on the bathroom door. "You mean like…how do you know that…have you ever…"

_Awkward_.

"Um…no…I can generally get **nookie** just fine **outside** the bathroom, thank you!" snapped Jon, more than a little insulted. "It's good for meeting people quickly… between classes…because it clears pretty fast…because people don't want to be late for class…becau- STOP LOOKING LIKE THAT AND GET INTO THE DAMNED BATHROOM, LARS!"

It was dim inside. Dim and full of boys, younger ones at urinals, or flinging wet tissue paper about, being general pains, older boys passing around foul-smelling muggle smoking sticks, reapplying hair product and spells and the general few passing around homework, attempting to scribble it down last minute.

"Get out!" shouted Jon, beginning to shove the younger ones out physically. "Out! Get out! If you're not pissing, piss off…"

"What's your problem, Von Ekelenberg?" snarled a Ravenclaw. Then, "OI! That's my homework!"

"If it's not done by now it's not going to get done," sang Jon cheerfully, flushing it down the nearest toilet. "Besides, what are you thinking? Are you even a real Ravenclaw? Copying off a Hufflepuff. A move worthy of a Gryffindor. Get out!"

"Hey! Hey! Don't you touch me, wanker!" hissed a third year.

"Ah," said Jon, eyes narrowing. "From our own charming house, I presume, with a tongue like that." And with that, he gave the boy an extra sharp shove out of the bathroom that sent the kid careening into a wall on the opposite side of the corridor.

"Oi, faggot," grunted an especially evolutionarily retarded member of the human race who appeared to be a neanderthalian fifth year of dubious house-placement. "This is the men's room!"

"Then what are _you _doing in it?!" snarled Jon ferociously.

"Hey! I thought you said you'd clear the bathroom by the time I got here! I knew I couldn't let you two handle things! Urgh! Boys!" snarleded Beth Moores, tossing her Slytherin scarf over her shoulder dramatically.

"Hey! You're a gir-Aaah!" howled a Hufflepuff when she kicked him in the knee cap. His friends pulled him away hurriedly.

"MENTION MY GENDER AGAIN AND I'll KICK HIGHER!" she yelled after him as the bathroom door swung closed.

"Cor, is that Beth Moores? In the boy's room!" Dean Thomas walked out of a stall, zipping up. Seamus was nervously drying his hands with paper towel, trying to hurry as much as possible, but Dean seemed highly amused by the whole thing. "Hi Beth! You're in the boy's room!"

"Dean, shut up!" hissed Seamus grabbing his friend by the back of his sweater and trying to drag him out of the door. "It's a Slytherin convention…and we've got class!"

The three Slytehrins watched this exchange with varying degrees of boredom and rolled their eyes.

"Hey Beth," Dean bucked and struggled against Seamus's pull. "How you doing?"

"Man, don't talk to the Slytherin girls!" begged Seamus. "They've got teeth in their vaginas!"

"I date Ginny…" said Dean.

"NO, Dean! We are NOT discussing Ginny Weasley's vag-anything! We're dorm mates with RON Weasley, in case you've forgotten, which means that he has easy access to our jugulars…"

And finally, with that exit, the bathroom was empty.

"Right," breathed Beth. "We've got a huge job, tonight."

"Yeah…" said Lars, still a little taken aback by the fact that he was in a bathroom, plotting against his own house with two members of said house he'd never cared to associate with before.

"Who's got the instructions?" asked Jon.

"I do," Lars knelt down to open his book bag.

"And I know when we're to _liaise_ with the Hufflepuffs…" Beth's pretty face twisted itself into a cheeky grin.

* * *

Scrimgeour: "I call to the stand Mr. Percival Weasley."

Carmella: "You received the Good Samaritan's letter?"

Percy: "Yes. Aren't I brilliant?"

Arthur and Charlie Weasley: "Boo!"

Carmella: "The letter's been verified?"

Percy: "Of course."

Donia: "Big deal."

Entire court: "Bwah?!"

Donia: "You can't prove anything it says."

Percy: "Yes I can!"

Donia: "Really? How?"

Percy: "I…well…"

Donia: "Where's the proof? I don't see any proof."

Carmella: "We have eye-witness accounts!"

Donia: "Really? Because all you've had up till now is heresy. And in a muggle court that's inadmissable."

Entire court: "Ooooooooooooh….."

Katie: "BURN!"

Scringeour: "ORDER!"

Carmella: "Your honour! I would like to call to the stand an eye-witness! I'd like to call Severus Snape! A professor at Hogwarts!"

Scrimgeour: "Finally Miss Mistlethwaite! I was beginning to question your years of legal education…Calling to the stand Professor Severus Snape. Calling Professor Snape. Professor Snape? No Professor Snape? No Professor Snape? Professor Snape, anyone? Will the real Severus Snape please stand up. No? Well, then we'll have to call in the next witness…"

Jess: "What the hell just happened?"

Donia: "Steph. Steph just happened."

Jess: "What?"

Katie: "How?"

Donia: "I have no bleeding clue."

* * *

The door slammed behind him and Snape spun around, heart pounding.

"You are a hateful, _hateful_ man, Severus. Has anyone ever told you that?" hissed Steph, prowling forward, canines bared.

"What-How-Get out of my room!"

"No. How DARE you leer at me before you stab me in the back?"

"Miss, Lalonde, the term '_Stabbing you in the back'_ implies that I somehow misled you into thinking that I did _not_ loathe your very being. But since I've always made it perfectly clear that I can't stand the very sight of you…" He thought of Katie's sunshine smile all of a sudden and felt scornful of all bunnies, flowers and happy, cute muggles all of a sudden. "_Or_ your kind…." Then he thought of Hermione Granger, Katie's insufferable know-it-all new friend. " or your friends…." Then Harry Potter came to mind. "Or your friends' friends…." Then James Potter and Sirius Black popped into his head. "Or your friends' friends' parents, I can't see how you would've misinterpreted the situation. I scorn anyone remotely related to you. Infact, I full-heartedly detest anyone within six degrees' separation of you, which virtually brings you back to me. So, please…without further a do…before people begin to think that something's amiss…could you _PLEASE_ leave my quarters?!"

"No!"

"Why?!"

"Coz you're my BITCH, Snape, that's why. Now shut up and sit down."

He pulled out his wand.

"You've already tried that earlier and it didn't…." she said petulantly though a glimmer of fear made itself clear to Snape.

"No loss in trying again!" he sneered, snapping his wrist. A blast of orange light sizzled out of the end of his wand.

Fefu squeaked and recoiled in anticipation of the death ray of doom, but once again, nothing happened. It seemed to reach her, then branch out around her, fizzling out into space as if reflected by an invisible mirror.

"How do you DO THAT?" he howled.

"Oh that…..is the least of your worries…." Steph balled her fists in her shirt and gave it a mighty tug as she started screaming at the top of her lungs.

"No! Shush! Quiet! Please!" begged Severus in a flurry of scandalised panic.

She stared right at him, her eyes narrowed wickedly, as she gave one long continuous blood-curdling shriek after another.….then the shrieking became real when he charged her and she turned and fled across the room. He tried to catch her by her loosened shirt and the damned thing came right off her, becoming nothing more than the ravished, shredded remains of a school shirt, barely recognisable.

He didn't think it possible, but Steph actually began to scream even louder, a hysterical fearful squeal that almost made Snape feel like his organs were collapsing.

Snape leapt after her, yelling, "Shut up! Shut up!"

He grabbed her, pulling her close to him and putting his hand over her mouth. She struggled and kicked his knee out from under. It almost seemed that she might get away, but as Snape fell, he grabbed at thin air and got his fingers caught in Steph's curly hair.

Down she went, right on top of him and they spent the next five minutes frantically punching and kicking each other in the tangled sheets, each firm in the belief that the other's intentions were less than honourable.

Yes, Snape too.

It was a good thing that Steph was fighting for her life, because the irony would have crippled her.

"Snape?" A hesitant knock sounded at the door. " Severus? Is everything alright?"

They froze.

"Yes! Yes! Everything's perfectly fine…just my mirror... again…"

"I thought you took it down, old boy…"

" Yes, well, I thought I 'd put it up."

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"Well, I'm trying to look half respectable going to court, Filius! Now this is embarrassing enough as it is, without you listening in at the door. Can you please go…"

"Oh, yes….so sorry, old boy…." Professor Flitwick's footsteps faded away into the distance.

Neither one of them dared move, petrified into place, just waiting to hear more footsteps outside the door. After about ten minutes of complete silence, it began to be evident that none were coming.

Then, barely breathing, Steph murmured, "Your mirror screams at you?"

"Doesn't yours?"

"Mine tells me I'm pretty…"

"Oh."

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Do you like my bra?"

Snape looked down. It was hard to be sure, really. It was that bright lime green shade that was usually repellent and would make anyone else look sickly, but next to Steph's cork-screw, phoenix-fire hair, the colour seemed to almost glow in the dim lighting of his room…and her skin was so…so pale…amazing how youth defied gravity with such _firm_ disdain…

"AAAAAAAH!" Snape practically catapulted out of his own bed. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! MY MIND! MY MIND! AAAAHAAHAAHAAHA!"

Steph grinned and propped herself up with her elbows. "Oh, stop your howling, it's disgraceful. You know, for a while there, you had me worried. I thought you were a perv…"

"Please clothe yourself!" he begged, trying to shield his eyes and address her directly at the same time.

"No."

"No?!"

"No."

"Have you no modesty?" he sobbed.

"Not since you made _this_ my last resort!" she snapped back.

"Made what?"

"Blackmail, you idiot. Keep up, will you?"

"It's very hard to concentrate when you're not wearing clothes. Where's your shirt? Put it on!"

"I can't. You tore my shirt."

"I didn't mean to!"

"That's what they all say."

"But I_ really_ _didn't_ mean to…"

"No matter. I'm still going to use this as leverage…"

"WHAT?!"

"If you go to court I'll tell whoever will listen you tore my shirt off me, pulled me into bed with you, where we commenced _writhing…" _And here she took a moment to bat her lashes suggestively. "… for about ten minutes. At least."

Snape tried his last, desperate card. "You'd…you'd lie under oath?!"

"Well, I'm not technically lying, am I?" said the girl. "I mean, we just did that…down to at 'T'."

Snape was struck dumb. In fact, Steph was momentarily convinced that she'd given him a stroke.

"Severus?" she sat up worriedly.

He blinked.

"Ah, there you go. You're fine. Now, do you have a board game or something?"

"What…what do you mean?" he asked, numbly.

"Well, you can't just go teach your classes. People will wonder why you aren't in court…especially after that precious little lie you just told Flitwick. So you might want to find something to while away the time. Unless you're planning to stand there and stare at my breasts all night."

* * *

Scrimgeour (looking utmostly frustrated) : "Are you going to object to _every_ witness we put on the stand?"

Donia: "Only ones who are married to Death Eaters."

Narcissa glared maliciously as she was led away from the stand.

* * *

"_THAT_ is **NOT** a dog!" yelled Steph.

"It _IS_ a dog." inssisted Snape holding up his drawing. "You said no wands. That's as good as I can do without a wand."

"And I suppose that giant arrow pointing to its head was how I was supposed to get 'dog-eared'. "

"It's pointing at his ear..."

"Why didn't you draw a book or something? An old book?"

"You would've NEVER gotten 'dog-eared' if I'd drawn an old book."

Steph stared at him wordlessly for a moment, then she said, "You officially suck at Pictionary."

* * *

"Calling Professor Albus Dumbledore to the stand."

"Dumbledore? He's here?" Arthur looked surprised.

"We looked everywhere for him." frowned Charlie. "Think he was avoiding us?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions just yet…" began Kingsley.

"Why would he do that? He's on our side." said Harry with conviction.

"Is that why he looks practically suicidal with misery?" interjected Lupin.

The three muggles turned away from this debate and looked at each other.

"This can't be good," murmured Jess. "It's Dumbledore. If he goes up against us, we're finished. Everyone believes Dumbledore…"

"Are you going to be alright?" Katie looked towards Donia worriedly.

Donia shrugged. "It all depends on what he says. I mean…I'd hate to go up there and have to poke holes through a fool proof argument. There's only so much I can do. So let's hope he makes a mistake."

"Dumbledore doesn't make mistakes," said Harry, joining the conversation.

"Everyone makes mistakes." said Donia neutrally.

"Said like a true Slytherin." snorted Shakelbolt.

Dumbledore was sworn in, amidst anticipatory murmuring from the avid audience and flashing camera flashes. He did, indeed, look grey with grief at being here. Not once did he look at the Defence table, avidly avoiding the eight pairs of eyes trained on him.

Carmella swooped forward, robes billowing dramatically. "Professor Dumbledore. Thank you for being here. Please, tell the court what you observed the other day…"

Jess jumped a little at a sudden movement Donia made next to her. The redhead turned to her friend only to see the other sitting up so stiffly it looked like a rod had been pushed down her spinal column. Eyes wide, head cricked to the side like a prairie dog catching a scent, Jess could almost imagine Donia's ear's perking up.

"What? What?" she whispered eagerly, tugging on the Slytherin's arm.

"Interesting choice of words," whispered Donia back.

"What do you mean?"

"She said, 'Tell the court what you _observed_.' Why not just tell him to tell us what he _witnessed_…"

"Same thing, isn't it?" asked Harry.

"No," said Jess. "You can make an observation from collated experience as well as from a first hand experience, but witnessing something dictates that you experienced it first hand…"

"Which means that Dumbledore probably didn't _witness what _he's about to say next!" squeaked Katie excitedly. "Which means-"

"**HERESY!"** yelled Donia leaping to her feet and bringing her fist up into the air like a superhero.

"Ridiculous!" snapped Carmella. "What's heresy?!"

"You're the one who went to law school, don't let me define it for you!" sniggered Donia.

Laughter broke out spottily.

"ORDER! ORDER!"

"Oh, that's not what I meant!" snapped Carmella, frustration seeping from her pores in waves.

"In what capacity was what I just said heresy, Miss Sawwan?" Dumbledore's calm voice cut through the noise like a knife.

Donia froze.

Everyone at the Defence table held their breath. They all knew perfectly well that their so-called 'lawyer' had been busy analysing Carmella's odd choice of phrasing as opposed listening to what Dumbledore had actually said.

"Miss Sawwan…what was it that I said that you consider heresy?" wondered Dumbledore.

"Pshaw!" Donia made a dramatic, dismissive gesture with her hand, nostril widened, eyes glaring righteously. "Everything! Everything you said just now! It's all crap!"

The courtroom murmured at the controversy.

Her friends sitting at the Defence table squirmed and contorted with discomfort.

"Oh dear lord…" groaned Jess, covering her eyes.

"Besides!" snapped Donia. "Why are you questioning me?! Since when is the witness allowed to question the Defence?! What is this charade of a courtroom and mummer's dance of a hearing?! How many innocents have been imprisoned wrongfully by this archaic, medieval justice system?!"

Katie was laughing so hard she was hyperventilating. Harry could only stare around open mouthed. Lupin had actually pulled his knees up into foetal position and was rocking back and forth on the bench.

"Reporters!" Donia clambered onto her seat, fighting against Jess and Kingsley's frantic attempts to pull her down. "You want a headline? I'll give you a headline! **MUGGLES REVEAL UNDENIABLE FAULTS IN WIZARDING LEGAL SYSTEM!** There's your headline!"

"YEAH!" screamed Charlie, getting to his feet, along with three-quarters of the press.

"Holy shit!" wheezed Katie, shaking her head from side to side, hand resting on her cramped middle. "She's gone Third Reicht on us! Again!"

Scrimgeour too had gotten to his feet and was banging the gavel so hard it's base kept fluttering up into the air and clattering down loudly onto his podium. His hair flared, his eyes flamed and his hookish nose protruded more than ever out of his purple face.

Carmella merely stood amidst the chaos and flapped her arms helplessly about.

Jess finally managed to wrest Donia down from her superior altitude. "What the HELL do you think you're doing, Sawwan?" she hissed frantically.

"I don't know! I don't know! It just happened! One minute he was asking what I was saying he was saying was heresy, the next minute I'm rousing a rabble and at the forefront of the movement for rewriting Wizarding Law! I don't know!" babbled Donia hysterically, tearing up.

"Does this…happen a lot?" asked Lupin.

"Invariably," Katie answered for her friend, who seemed to be in pieces about the whole thing. "It is more probable that Donia will rouse a mob, with pitch forks and fire and the whole nine yards, rather than admit she's wrong."

"Oh." said Lupin.

"**_SILEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENCE!"_**

Silence.

Scrimgeour's chest heaved, his teeth gnashed, his hair look more than ever like an enraged lion's mane, glasses askew, the remains of his shattered gavel ludicrously splintered in his fist. Beads of sweat slid down his face, veins danced a gig across his forehead.

"…..Dude…" muttered Katie. Donia swallowed loudly, throat bobbing, face pale with fear.

"Miss… Sawwan…." panted Rufus Scrimgeour, easing himself exhaustedly back into his seat. "Can we please finish this trial _without_ changing the face of National Wizarding Law?"

"Yes…" whimpered Donia, docile as a declawed Doberman.

"Right," Scrimgeour cleared his raw throat and ran his hand over his hair, in a futile attempt to flatten the static charged strands. "Professor Dumbledore, feel free to commence."

* * *

The painting swung aside and Lars stuck his head out of the Slytherin common room.

"Oi! Uhrig, is that you?" whispered Josh the Hufflepuff from shadows just outside the door.

"Yeah, it's me." Lars whispered back. "Coast is clear. Everyone's in class besides Jon, Beth, Blaise and me."

"What about Snape?"

"Professor Snape is at court, remember? He's testifying."

"Right! Well, good. You got the fire logs then?"

"Yeah."

"Toss 'em out, one at a time."

Lars looked back into the Slytherin common room. The other three Slytherins stood in a wide spread line across the common room ending at the pile of perfectly sized apple tree logs by the fireplace, where Jon stood.

"ALright," said Lars. "QUickly, now. And careful not to drop any on your feet….And careful not to throw them too high! Hit each other's faces…"

Nervously, the others nodded, then Jon picked up a log ond threw it to Blaise, who caught it and tossed it to Beth, who tossed it to Lars, who, finally, tossed it out the common room door, into a bag held by a Hufflepuff drone.

"Remember!" came Kait's voice from the shadowy corridor. "Only ten a bag, people. Anymore will slow down the retreat."

Ten logs in a bag and the Hufflepuff standing in front of the Slytherin doorway slid aside to let another stand in.

Lars counted five different Huffles before Jon finally called, 'That's it. We're done. No more logs."

"Right. See you later then?" Josh raised his eyebrows at Lars, who was occupied staring at the laden Hufflepuffs virtually melting away into the darkness of the dungeons. _When had the Hufflepuffs become so…organised?_

"Um…yeah." Lars blinked. "You have an hour. Till fourth period."

"Sure everyone 'll be in class by then?"

"We can only hope."

* * *

"Miss Parkinson was most aggrieved," finished Dumbledore. "It was hard to disbelieve. And Madame Pomfrey assured me that all their injuries were quite genuine."

"I think we all know and value Poppy Pomfrey's medical experience." said Carmella gravely. "After all, we were all under her care at one point or another. Thank you professor Dumbledore."

Walking past the Defense bench, the lawyer cast a hateful glance towards the muggles and spat, "Your witness."

"Not so pretty when she's spiteful, now, is she?" Charlie whispered to Kingsley.

"Trust me, that isn't even the half of it." replied Shakelbolt.

When Donia didn't rise from the bench with her usual ardour, a rumble of hesitant disaproval began to rise from the observers.

"Looks like we lost after all." sighed Arthur. "You girls…didn't actually do what Albus thinks you did…did you? I mean, he's under some misconception, surely….?"

Harry watched as the three girls merely looked back blankly. He understood what was running through their heads. As someone who'd been victimised by Malfoy and his gang of ruffians for years, he knew that it soon became irrelevant who's turn it was to hurt the other. Soon enough, the hatred became circular, justifiable. How could it not be? And only an idealist adult of the most naieve nature could _ever_ not appreciate the concept of "He started it!".

"Donia?" Katie put out a tentative hand. "Are we packing it in, then?"

The Slytherin muggle bit her lip nervously, eyes narrowed in fear…and something else.

"Jess…"

"Yeah?"

"That video better be ready."

* * *

"Remember," said Sarah, overseeing the work being carried out by her minions. She hovered in the centre of the common room, feet planted on the arms of her throne as she swayed and wobbled over the heads of the industrious Hufflepuffs, looking over their shoulders, supervising. A paper crown in mustard yellow (one of the first years had made it) sat asque on her pale brow. "Split the logs down the middle. Hollow them out enough, but not too much to make them any lighter than they otherwise would be.Then, take the leaves provided by Uncle Alfie." she giggled. "Oh ,this is going to be great. Take the leaves, about a good full handful for each log ought to do it, and stuff them uniformly in the hollow centres of each log. Then, with your utterly cool and useful magic-y sticks, make the logs whole again. Yeah, just like that!" she pointed at Zacharias Smith's attempt, a flawless example of casual-appearing firewood.

"Perfect, you guys! Absolutely perfect. The Slytherins won't know what hit 'em…"

* * *

"Professor Dumbledore," Donia came to stand before the ancient man.

Jess watched with bated breath. As far as she knew, the Slytherin _liked_ Dumbledore. How could she not? The old man had done nothing but defend them since the 'Incident' in the alleyway that started this whole damned dilemma, with the additional bonus of having the face of a kindly grandfather.

People would _not_ take kindly to Dumbledore being insulted on the stand. Donia would have to use her discretion…if she could _find_ it.

"Professor Dumbledore," the Slytherin said again. Then… "Do you have proof?"

Silence.

"What?" Dumbledore's eyebrows rose into his hairline.

"Proof, sir." said Donia. "Do you have any proff to back up what you just told this court?"

"What is she playing at?!" whispered Lupin in fascination.

"Your Honour!" moaned Carmella. "This is a first hand account!"

"Witnesses have been know to…" Donia's eyes flickered nervously to the Defence bench as both Katie and Jess catapulted forward in their seats and hissed, "_Don't! Say! 'LIE'!"_

"Get CONFUSED!" finished Donia, going pink. "Besides, it's not a first hand account of anything."

Dumbledore stared at this _child_ standing up to him.

"No disrespect intended, sir," Donia said softly. "But you really honestly have no real idea of how Pansy Parkinson got those bruises on her and her lackeys, do you? I mean, you have _her_ word for it, and as a responsible Headmaster, you _had _to come in here and report on it. But honestly, I've been shacked up with the Slytherins for three weeks now and even _I_ know that Pansy Parkinson has as much truth to her as Silicone Valley."

Katie groaned and covered her face, as Jess leaned over to whisper, "Did she just make a _porn_ reference in COURT?!"

"Am I right Professor Dumbledore?"

Albus blinked confusedly for a moment. Then, a slow, small smile began to spread on his tired face. His eyes twinkled and he gave Donia a piercing look over his half moon glasses.

"Why's he grinning?" wondered Harry.

"Because he knows we beat up the Slytherins." replied Katie.

"You _did_?"

"Yeah. We beat the crap out of them."

"You're right, Miss Sawwan," Albus admitted, nodding. "I can't prove that what Miss Parkinson told me was the truth…"

"WHAT?!" shrieked Carmella leaping to her feet.

"Brrrrrrrrilliant!" yelled Donia, turning to face the court. "You may step down, Professor, because it's time for the mugglicious bitches to lay the pimping smack down, fo' shizzle, ma wizzles!"

"WHAT?!" barked Scrimgeour.

Jess's shoe bounced off the back of Donia's head.

"Er…we need a recess..." Donia garbled.

* * *

As the muggles at the court set up the giant white bedsheet they were using as a make-shift projector screen, at the Ministry, their counterparts at Hogwarts were wreaking equal havoc.

Steph still had Snape under house arrest.

The Twins had just returned from Hogsmeade with two great sacks of merchandise from Honeydukes.

Sarah wasn't in the Hufflepuff common room to receive them, though. She was leading the returning pack of Huffle ninjas carrying the loaded logs back to the Slytherin common room, where they were rearranged back into their original pile formation by Jon, Lars, Beth and Blaise again.

But in reality, this over activity was merely an undercurrent to the expectant atmosphere hanging over the entire Wizarding community.

It would take nothing short of a miracle for the muggles to convince the court to keep them on at Hogwarts.

And in a magical community, technology is a miracle.

* * *

Scrimgeour and his courtroom watched in absolute fascination, mouth open, gazes vacant, as the documentary of Katie being brutalised flashed overhead, like a drive-in cinema.

"Look! That's Draco Malfoy!" someone cried when Harry came on screen in the terrible wig.

"Oh, isn't he dreadful?!" moaned Donia. "Please! Don't look away! Watch him! Watch Malfoy be a nasty boy on film! Oh yes! Yes!"

"Oh no look! They're trying to flatten the muggle!" screamed a woman. "Someone stop them! Stop them!"

Carmella sat at her table flabbergasted.

Scrimgeour watched, concentration creasing his brow profanely.

"_Rape! Rape!"_ cried Hermione on film.

The audience in the courtroom gasped and cried out in horror as the camera panned in on Katie and Ron rolling around in the background, then panned away hurriedly towards Hermione again.

No one actually noticed that the real Katie was currently hiding her face in Harry's shoulder praying to God that a huge crevice spilt the ground beneath her feet and swallow her irretrievably.

Then, the interview with Sarah came up. And it went…something like this:

Katie: "_Miss Ogle, hypothetically, if you were ever attacked by the Slytherins while minding you own business, how would you react?"_

Sarah: "_I'd fu-"_ (Here, there was a severe cut in the fluidity of her facial expression) "-_simply-" (_Another bizarre, twitchy cut worthy of a possessed schizophrenic) "-_stand by and take the whooping hoping for some obscure Wizarding justice to be carried out in our defence?"_

Donia and Katie leaned towards Jess at exactly the same time, but it was the Gryffindor who spoke first.

"Bit heavy-handed on the editing, there, Jess? Last I checked, her reply was good ten minutes long!"

"It was all I could use between the swearing and calls for blood, Katie!" Jess snarled back.

"But look, it's all butchered! For sure they'll see right through it; all that cutting's made Sarah look like…like…"

"Linda Blair," put in Donia. "On a bad day. Still, I'm amazed you could use anything at all, knowing Sarah. I particularly like the rising inflection of the last sentence."

Jess groaned, cupping her aching head in her hands.

"No really," said Donia cheerfully, pulling away as the tape ended and the mesmerised crowd watching began to stir. "I never thought I'd see Sarah be Valley-Girl…"

"That's enough, Miss Sawwan, you've made your point." Said Scrimgeour, turning away from the bed sheet.

"Oh, I'm not done yet!" roared the Slytherin, the rush of rabid megalomania gleaming in her eyes. "I call Miss Jess Frey to the stand!"

"WHAT?!" keaned Jess.

* * *

"Ooh…what's that?" Steph prodded the flagellating, putrid, mucous-green, clear jelly with a finger and the thing wobbled and danced about as if it was sentient. "Ew!"

"Look…DON'T touch that!" snapped Snape, pushing her hand away and shivering in accordance because (Oh God!) he'd touched a muggle. With no shirt on.

"Are you going to use that?" she asked as he picked up a spatula.

He ignored her.

It had been like that for the past three hours. He barely said anything to her unless he absolutely couldn't help it. The first hour he'd merely sat there morosely watching her as she strolled around his room, opening his drawers (No, you silly North Americans with dirty minds…drawers as in chest of drawers, not as in pants!) and generally being nosey.

The next hour had intombed their disasterous attempt at Pictionary.

Then, getting fed up with the whole situation, or perhaps getting used to being under house arrest, he'd gotten up and began preparing potions for his afternoon classes.

Taking his butter-knife-like spatula, he swiped a corner off the dancing jelly, which gave a small piteous shriek of agony and began to bleed where he'd cut it, and added it to the smoking, bubbling grey sludge currently spitting volcanically from his caldron.

A nasty, throat-burning smoke began to coil out of the mixture into the room. Snape scrunched up his face into his regular sour expression of triumph as Steph began to cough, recoiling hurriedly from her position peering over his shoulder.

"Huh…muggles," he muttered.

"Oh ,shut up. You did that on purpose just to be spiteful," wheezed Steph. "Typical…"

"I did not!"

"You did."

"I did not!

"You did."

"I'm merely making my potion…"

"How do you expect any of the kids in your class to LIKE potions if you make tham as nasty as possible for them?"

"Well, not all subjects cater to the generally spoilt nature of the student body." he gloated.

"Oh, you bastard. What's wrong with making the potions nicer?"

"Nicer!" he glared at her. "You can't make them _nicer_. They either work or they don't."

"Oh ,for goodness' sake, if you added some crushed lavender and a whiff of Full-moon Harvested Deadly Nightshade it wouldn't effect the potency of the potion at all." she said, grabbing a jar of both ingredients off his shelf.

"Wait! No!" he called as she tossed in a pinch of the first and a handfull of the former.

"Oh Snape, don't be so uptight! You're one of the most uptight people I've ever met! You're so fixed in your ways!"

"You just ruined my potion!" he yelled, close to tears.

"No I didn't. Just give it a minute. God, you're so against the reforming of opinions…"

Then, "Oh…"

The violent, roiling mass, rolling around in his cauldron, abruptly ceased its nastiness and turned into a lilac-coloured, clear solution, with a slight silvery sheen, like oil on water, and a heady, floral aroma.

"There." said Steph, proudly.

"How…" Snape looked like he could've been knocked over with a feather.

"Now your students won't mind drinking it so much, eh?" she put a hand on his shoulder, smiling proudly.

"How…are you…" he turned towards her, ready to ask the question that had abruptly formed in his dazed and confused mind. It suddenly struck him that Steph was standing…rather close….really…rather…too close… when a loud melodious singing of sweet, high children's voices sounded from right outside his door.

"_Weasley is our King!  
Weasley is our Kiiiiiiiiing!  
He didn't let the quaaaaaffle-"_

The singing faded away gradually.

"What _is_ that?" wondered Snape, feeling suddenly short of breath.

Steph looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes. "Draco Malfoy, passing your room. Someone must've just spilt something on him…"

The moment had passed with Draco.

But they'd both felt it.

* * *

Donia stood right in front of Jess, her hand on the witness' podium, eyes looking directly into the redhead's.

_What is she up to?_ Jess's mind reeled with panic. _I hope she's not expecting me to lie under oath!_

"Miss Frey," began Donia in an imperious voice. "I'm going to ask you a rather difficult question. The subject may still be highly emotionally close to you…"

The observers moaned in sympathy at this.

"But, it must be done, I fear." said Donia dramatically. Then, with a highly melodramatic sob, she added, "I'm sorry!"

_WHAT is going on?!_ Jess look desperately towards the Defence bench to see if maybe Katie had any idea of what was running through Donia's head. If anyone had any idea of how the Slytherin thought, sometimes, it was usually Dubois.

But Dubois merely sat there gaping. And when she finally caught Jess' questioning, desperate gaze, she shrugged helplessly and continued to watch in mortification.

"Miss Frey…"

"WHAT?!" Jess jumped, wired as a sand-blasted baboon on electrodes.

For a moment, the Slytherin frowned, thrown by the unusual reaction, but she barrelled on…in true Donia fashion. "Who gave you that terrible mark on your forehead?"

Silence. Jess' eyes widened in fear as her own hand reached up numbly to feel at the purple bullseye on her forehead. "Th-th-this?"

"Yes, Miss Frey. Who gave you that purple bullseye on your forehead?" demanded Donia.

_YOU!_ screamed Jess's mind. _YOU GAVE IT TO ME!_

"Come, now, Miss Frey, try…try to get through this!" said Donia, supportively gripping Jess's hand.

_Donia gave me the purple bullseye,_ Jess's inner voice sobbed hysterically. _Did she FORGET?! _

Then suddenly, "Draco Malfoy gave you that bullseye, didn't he, Miss Frey?" stated Donia loudly.

"WHAT?!" cried Carmella.

The courtroom bubbled and seethed with sudden discussion.

"Leading the witness!" screamed Carmella, but hardly anyone heard her over the rumbling crowd.

"Yes, he did, didn't he, Miss Frey?" Donia pushed on. Then, turning to address her audience, she cried, "Look how effected she is! She's too terrified to actually speaking up! It's terrible! What state of fear must this poor, little, powerless muggle be living in to sustain such bodily humiliation as this…" she pointed at Jess' forehead. "A purple bullseye! As if we needed anymore reminders from a Death Eater brat that we are marked! Marked! MARKED FOR THE DARK LORD! OH WOE IS US! OH WOE! You may step down, Miss Frey…"

"Booooo! Down with the Malfoys! Down with the Malfoys!" called the reporters in the pews. "Boooo!"

"Order!" ordered the judge.

Jess numbly stepped off the podium and sleep-walked to where Katie had a hand out to help her into her seat.

"Katie…" whimpered Jess. "Did Donia jut make me lie under oath?"

"Um, well…technically?" Katie swallowed worriedly. "You didn't lie, because…well, you didn't get a word in edge-ways, did you? I mean…_she_ did all the lying….and she wasn't under oath…"

"Your Honour! I wish to call Miss Katherine Gale Dubois to the stand!"

"SHIT!" hissed Katie, angrily.

* * *

"Right," Sarah straightened and mopped her sweaty brow with a limp hand. "Thank God _that's_ over!"

"Yeah," Jon's breath whistled as he tossed the last log at he top of a triangular pyramid (Draco insisted on having them in such a formation) and commenced leaning against the fireplace mantlepiece. "I never want to look at another log ever again for as long as I live."

"Hey," said George, picking up a green, velvety cushion and twirling it around in his hands. "You know, your common room is really…um…"

"Old fashioned?" said Lars numbly. _Here it comes…the Gryffindorian mockery…_

"Um…we were going to say 'Regal'…" sad Fred, surprising the hell out of Lars.

"Well, we're going to remodel. Soon," replied Jon. "All this stuff will smell like…well…pot, anyway, by the end of the week, won't it?"

"Yes. You guys all have places to stay _outside_ your common room, right?" asked Sarah.

"I'm staying with a Ravenclaw cousin of mine," said Beth, jubilant as a jalapeno in a jar of joajoaba. "And Blaise will be staying with us…"

"Don't look so miserable, Blaise," Lars wrapped a supporting hand around Blaise's shoulder.

"I just…" began the girl in haggard voice. "I just didn't sign up for full-out house betrayal when I asked the Muggle to help me nab Draco…"

She was ignored.

"I'm staying with you, am I not?" Jon asked Sarah.

"Totally! It'll be so much fun!" grinned La Presendenté. "We party a lot, us Hufflepuffs… almost every night, in fact…"

"Hufflepuffs? Party?" Lars could barely believe what he was hearing.

"Yes. It promotes House spirit and bonding." Sarah intoned. "We have long believed that the unwavering solidarity often shown by _your_ house of Slytherin has been in direct proportion to your hedonistic rituals of merrymaking, ribauldry and debauchery…"

"It's true," said Beth. "We started getting pissed with Draco around the same time he stopped all the parties and started that whole Ravenclaw-studying type bullshit…"

"Wow…" Lars felt mildly superficial, after that revelation. _Oh well_…

"Lars," Sarah broke into his train of thought. "Where are you going to staying?"

"Here." said Lars.

"What?" Sarah blinked. "But, Uhrig… the smoke…"

"…is from 'A' grade Marijuana leaves, Ogle. I'm not leaving this room if my life depended on it."

"You mean you…_want_ to stay?" Sarah asked.

"I'm going to grab the nearest seat to that fireplace and _not_ move till it's all over, next week." was Lars' reply. "I better get a discount price at the munchies, you two…" He addressed the Weasley twins, who were currently staring at him with great awe.

"Cor!" cried George. "That's fucking genius, that is!"

They turned to Sarah. "Sarah…"

"NO!" snapped Ogle.

"But- but, Sarah…"

"NO! NO, you two!" she insisted. "Besides, you'd never pass as Slytherins! You have Gryffindor written all over you!"

"Where?" George began studiously searching his skin.

"You have to connect the freckles, first." sniggered Jon.

"They'll be too high to care!" pleaded Fred.

"I'm afraid no level of intoxication could ever convince Draco to let a bunch of Gryffindors stay in _his_ common room unscathed, guys." said Lars.

"You just don't want to share!" yelled George, heartbroken.

"Guys, I need you to run the marketing of the munchies," said Sarah. "We're trying for a profit here. Sales will be huge; I can't do without you."

"Aw, shite." Fred and George looked morose for the rest of the day after that. "It's never…"

Sudden silence.

Everyone froze.

Faintly…ever so faintly but gradually getting louder, they all heard it… approaching… ever approaching… like the threatening 'tick-tock' of Hook's alarm clock in the belly of a giant crocodile…

"_Weasley is our Kiiiing!  
Weasley is our kiiiiiiiiiing!  
He didn't let the quaaaaaaffle iiiiiiiiiiin!  
Weeeeeeeasley…"_

"OH SHIT! OH SHIT!" hissed Lars frantically. "It's Draco! It's Draco!"

"YOU SAID HE HAD CLASS!" seethed Sarah in as quiet a tone as she could muster.

"He DOES!" squeaked Jon. " He does! He does!"

"_Quick! HIDE!"_ Sarah threw herself beneath a chez-longe. Blaise and Beth instantly sat on the thing, strategically placing their legs to hide the fact that there was a human being under there. A human being dressed in Hufflepuff livery which, Lars took a moment to note, was even louder, colour-wise, than the Gryffindor uniforms.

One of the twins leapt behind a bunch of curtains, and Jon proceeded to grab a book and lean against him casually, venomously spitting, "_WHY_ do we even have CURTAINS, here? We're in the blinkin' dungeons; we don't have windows!".

The last Weasley twin froze in panic up to the point where everyone could hear Draco stop right outside the portrait hole.

In a moment of pure cold-blooded Slytherin calculation, Lars kicked Fred (or George) behind the knee caps, making the boy fall forward on to his hands and knees. Grabbing one of the green blankets casually left on a couch, Lars threw it over the boy and hurriedly sat down. He had just enough time to put his feet up on the new 'foot stool', before the creepy painting swung upwards and Draco came barging into the common room.

It took Draco a moment to notice the people in the common room…and their rather tense expressions. It took him another moment to realise, with some suspicion, that their tense expressions had nothing to do with his evident state of blueness.

"_Hello…"_ he blinked. "What are you all doing here?"

"_Weasley is ouuuuuuuuur Kiiiiiing!"_

"Um…Hi…..Draco…." Lars flicked a tight-lipped smile at his friend. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Yes, but someone spilt water all over me in Herbology. Disrupted the class with the stupid singing. I came to dry up and change…what _is_ that?" Draco pointed at Lars' foot stool.

"_Weaaaaaasley is ouuuuuuuuuur King!"_

"It's…a table." choked Lars, looking desperately at the others for any help. Jon faked absorption in the book (which was upside down) and the two girls could only sit where they were, holding hands, with forced smiles on their faces.

"_He didn't let the quaffle iiiiiiiiiiin!"_

"It's a bit...wonky, don't you think?" said Draco frowning at the thing underneath the blanket.

"Yes, well….I'm working on it…" said Lars.

"I didn't know you were into transfiguration, Lars," Draco looked lost and in great need of sympathy all of a sudden.

"Yes, well….there's a lot of things you don't know about me, Draco!" snapped Lars, feeling his heart sink oh-so-low.

"Oh…" said Draco, awkwardly. Then he frowned. "You guys…You're not skipping, are you? Because we can't afford to lose House points, this year…"

"Noooo, noooo, oh God, no!" scoffed Lars.

"Nooooo, nooooo!" the other three reassured the air in their general vicinity.

"We were done our assignments early." said Beth.

"All of you? You're in different years…aren't you?" Once again Draco looked horrendously confused.

" _Weeeeeeasley is oooooour King!  
Weeeeeeasley is our Kiiiiiing!" _

"Draco, honestly, that singing is driving me to distraction! Could you please get changed?" cried Lars.

Draco's face went a deep, bright red worthy of a Weasley. "Oh, damn it!" he raged. "I hate this! So inconvenient!"

He stormed off to his room, stomping all the way down the corridor, then slamming his door with a reverberating bang.

The four conspirators sprung into action. Lars tore the blanket off George (or Fred) and practically lifted the other boy to his feet, hauling him towards the portrait hole. Blaise and Beth were manhandling Sarah in the same fashion, as Jon hurriedly shoved the other Weasley twin after.

"Hurry!" hissed Blaise. "Get out!"

The portrait hole just managed to swing shut, and all four conspirators were turning to rush back to their positions when Draco walked into the room, catching them all grouped around the portrait hole.

Jon, Blaise and Beth screamed. Lars tried not to lose the last vestiges of his sanity…or hearing.

"People, why so _jumpy_?" scolded Draco, disapprovingly. "Relax, will you? It's not seemly, acting as if a bunch of Gryffindors had…Lars! _Your table's gone! Someone's stolen your table!_"

* * *

"Miss Dubois," Donia posed classically, flexing muscles that were invisible beneath her school uniform. "Could you please give this court an idea of how traumatised you've become by your brush with the students at Hogwarts?"

There was a pregnant pause as everyone in the courtroom focused on the lovely, doe-eyed muggle on the stand.

With great dramatic ardour and in a most convincing manner, Katie Dubois burst into fantastic tears.

Liquid flew everywhere. Eyelashes gleamed, irises glittered, lips quivered.

Donia watched as cameras flashed and hearts melted. With a Cheshire cat's grin brought about by Napoleonic success, the Slytherin turned to Scrimgeour and flatly stated, "I rest my case."

* * *

Dinner time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a rowdy affair.

The news that the muggles were here to stay had spread like wildfire. Amongst a conglomeration of loud, raucus cheering and singing from the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, quiet hatred from the Ravenclaws and outspoken jeering from the Slytherins, it was a while till all five muggles were finally able to reunite and sit down to get some food with their friends.

There was a beautiful long kiss between Katie and Ron, a hilarious greeting for Jess from her film cast, the occasional volley of "_Weasley is Our King"_ pleasantly floating towards them from the Slytherin table, and a barrage of people haranguing Steph as to just how she'd managed to stop Snape from showing at court.

Steph glared at Donia, but the Slytherin was too busy telling the heroic and immoral tale of how she'd conned the entire Wizarding world to notice that she'd just spilt the beans on something that, under normal circumstances, would have attracted a lot more suspicion than it ultimately wound up doing.

But the highest point of the evening, at least for Sarah Ogle and the Weasley Twins, came when Minerva McGonagal came sprinting into the Great Hall, green robes covered in soot, exclaiming, "Severus! Your common room…"

Snape got slowly to his feet, dread apparent on his face.

McGonagal gulped. Then, as every single person in the Great Hall looked on, she murmured. "The dungeons…they're….on fire!"


End file.
